"Never pleasant," Dib said conversationally, and twisted his own beer's cap off, before taking a swig and ripping open the bag, to toss the pasta into the boiling water. "Any chance of you living through this one? And if not, would you like to try and avoid it by coming here for a couple days while shit gets squishy? You never know. It might pull them off your ass for a while. And by you, I mean global you, not personal you. Huh. Actually, that isn't a bad idea." His head tilted as he thought it through, poking down the pasta with a wooden spoon before stepping away from the stove to lean against the counter, near the sink. "Find some of the guys that they go after specifically, bring them into another reality to divert the horrorterrors' attentions, and then, when they go after them, pull the bubble safely to its final destination and actualize it. If they can't play by the rules, you shouldn't have to, either."