Steven just laughs and laughs, reaching over to pet Lydia's head like a cat. If the collar fits...

"Yeah, no, eternal unlife as an animated skeleton with your essence in a box sounds great and all, but there's nothing like the tactile pleasures of mortal life," Steven says, grinding the end of their joint out in an ashtray. "Pillows. Fucking. Getting fucked up. Reaching for someone's throat and--" He laughs and mimes squeezing. "Mm. I still want my stress neck."