Eaff't sounded good to him. He took a slice himself and winced as he chewed. He'd really hit the pavement hard. Little lightning bolts of pain slithered through his jaw. Man, fuck that camo guy.

The big guy lapsed into silence again as he contemplated where to go from here. He had a lot of questions but he wasn't sure if it was his place to ask them. He also wanted to give Heather the opportunity to take what she wanted because she'd saved his ass. And also RIBS. That bothered him. It bothered him it bothered him it bothered him. He was his mother's son.

Maybe he'd take a third beer. Three was supposed to be a lucky number, wasn't it? Or was it four? It was probably four. He want to the fridge again.

A thought struck him. "Halloween is going to be awesome."