Merlin, no, but-- that's awful. That can't be real. That's not real, is it?

[because, whAT the FUCk. He stares into the middle distance, still momentarily transfixed in horror. Even when he shakes his head again, briskly, it does nothing to dislodge the image that he never wanted nor asked for. Merlin's beard.]

Please tell me you're having me on. Or, better yet, tell me you can do just enough magic to wipe that memory out of my head. Sally. Please.