Elijah.. poor, poor Elijah. Dead. Burned alive in a towering inferno, because while I was hip enough to buy him a brand new stove and a brand new wide screen tv, I was not hip enough to buy a 60 dollar fire alarm.
Woe is me.
He went down in flames, poor boy. And I really liked him. Damn it. I had that house just the way I wanted it too.
Good thing I saved it after the last time, or Elijah and all his hip, urban hobbit coolness would be lost to the world.
This is what is great about being God. You get to tinker with resurrection.
*manical laughter*