"... You don't look like you're praying," Hanschen murmured to the girl in the picture. He held onto it tightly with one hand as he slowly slid the other up his bare thigh and under his white nightgown. It wasn't often he was able to get away like this, surprisingly. He was always at school or church or otherwise keeping up appearances of being the very model of a well-behaved German boy. Even when he was at home, his father kept a close eye on him. He closed his eyes, gasping out another reply to the girl in the picture.
Suddenly, he heard a knock on his door and his father's voice, but when he turned his head to make a hurried reply, he found himself somewhere else entirely. Hanschen looked around himself, a look of mild annoyance and confusion on his face. Where had his room gone? And why was he outside? It was blastedly cold out.
T: Um, re-introing Hanschen as old Hanschen hasn't been active for 7 weeks. Taken right in the middle of "My Junk" and before anything really happens in the play. ALso, he doesn't remember anything that may have happened with old Hanschen here sooooo YAY CLEAN SLATE