Panophobia (IC Thread)

[Mormarth]

The radio crackled to life, a comfortably aged voice sidling in over the static and gravel crunching under tire treads.

"Good morning, listeners. It's Greg Willowburgh, how you all doin' this morning?" The speaker paused to take a drink of some likely nefariously overly caffeinated beverage.

"It's a bit of a slow morning here in Fairfield, Saturday morning and all, not too many people getting out of bed and out on the roads. But I know I've got a few dedicated listeners out there, even at this hour, so I'm here for you, always."

"Today's Top Story: Well, listeners, I'm sure we all know what today is, the anniversary of the strange occurances up on Taylor Hill," A 'spooky' sound effect played for a moment, "When the Carter family: Ethan Carter, his wife Liza, his mother Lillian and their three children, Daniel, Lucy and Jennifer all vanished during the night of March 11th, 1986. The family car was still present, nothing had been touched. It was as if they'd all just gotten up and walked out into the night."

"There was a remaining boarder, a Mr. Jonathan Carter, Mr. Carter's brother, who was questioned by the police but, due to his presence at UniCorp's offices in Albany, no evidence could be linked to him, for his part, he plead ignorance to the whole affair, expressing shock and distress over his brother's family's disappearance."

"Still, listeners, that Mr. Carter didn't stick around long, I'm not one to judge a man based on hearsay, but I reckon he had something to do with it, still, the past is the past, and the best we can do is hope that, wherever they are, it's a better place. Now, for brighter news, the annual Fairfield Marathon is coming up soon, so I hope you've been training up..."

"Least someone seems to be having an interesting morning," Groused your chaperone, Mr. Remington, he looked bleary-eyed and unhappy, but not unhappy enough to listen to attempts to drop you off and say you did your jobs before hand, "Least it should be done quick, I missed breakfast."

"Aw, c'mon teach, you always go on and on about 'breakfast is important' and you blow it off? Rookie move, man. You'll never have the get-up-and-go if you trudge on through!"

The cheery voice that comes from the back of the van belongs to one Leon Lombardo, local horn-dog, this wouldn't have been his first time getting dragged out for community service, and it wouldn't be the last.

"I'm personally lookin' forward to that Marathon, hear the prize money this year's gonna be sick. Gonna go down to the City for a nice weekend, grab some of those high-maintenance city girls and-"

"No one's interested in your sodomy, Lombardo," Came the soft, cold tone from the middle, Gabriella Jainsworth, she was an unexpected presence in the van, what's a good Christian girl like her doing in weekend detention?

"You pollute the very air around you with your sin, confess and repent your ways before the Lord and your soul may still have some dignity."

Oh, right.

Leon leered, "Yeah I bet you'd know all about that, Miss Nun-too-holy."

"Quiet down back there!" Came the bark from the front, "We only got a few minutes left until we get there, and I'm not interested in your shit."

Remarkably, his authority managed to chain back the tide of holy wrath rising in the middle of the van, and she collapsed back into her seat with a huff.

The van slunk back into a sullen, early morning silence, interrupted solely by the opening tunes of some new song.

"Y'know, some people may not care for the language, but for me this song's just one to sit back and just chill to, just have a nice Saturday morning, because everything's gonna be alright. Because I'll tell you something folks, a nice chilled out attitude? That's what I got."

You've all got a few minutes to kill until you reach your destination, what do you do?


==
This is a nice, slow intro section to tide y'all over, think of it as the pre-title crawl sequence. You'll arrive at the House this weekend, so say your piece, chill, or don't say anything at all. Just a nice quiet section to get a feel for your character and each other.

[Airen]

Sarah Parker
Van Interior ~ Back

Her nap had been interrupted.

Eyes flickering open, greeting the darkness of the visor she had placed over them mere moments after getting into the van this morning, Sarah Parker lets out a quiet sound, a silent huff, as she tries to decide whether or not she needs to shut up the feuding couple herself, or if church girl and wannabe player would just silence themselves on their own.

"Quiet down back there! We only got a few minutes left until we get there, and I'm not interested in your shit."

Naturally, or perhaps unexpectedly, it seems the teacher had stepped in all on his own. It's the first time he had been useful today, with his refusal to just admit that the group wasn't going to just laze around, and that time would be saved if he just let everyone out of this already. It was an annoyingly responsible thing for him to do, and her immediate descent into a nap, head resting against the window, visor drawn down over her eyes, had been half done in rebellion, half done just because she enjoyed sleeping... Perhaps a bit too much, if she was to be honest with herself.

Trying to return to the world of dreams but failing, her mind picking up on the almost there implication of the teacher's words, the young student shifts her body around slightly, keeping her now open eyes hidden so people would keep on leaving her alone.

There is some regret now.

Thinking back to how she had been caught, spray can in hand at the top of the school, she could admit that maybe trying to sneak in an extra tag or two in-between classes hadn't been the smartest thing to do. Missing the beginning of class wasn't something she usually did (she usually snuck out halfway through), so of course they would send someone after her, and naturally, that would have been the day where her senses were shot all to hell from getting no sleep the previous night.

A series of unfortunate events had landed her in this van today, and looking back on it, there's certainly a brief feeling of regret...

But only regret that she got caught...

"..."

Letting even this go when it becomes too much of a pain to cling to, the girl crosses her arms and sinks back into the corner of the van, eyes still covered, and head still tilted down.

She barely knew most of the people here after all.

Talking was a pain in the ass.

[Tobias]

Tak Johnson
Van Interior ~ Back

"Gyahahahaha!"

The sound of boisterous laughter rocked through the van, somehow making the already cramped conditions seem even more packed together.

Tak Johnson's lanky form was sprawled into the rear middle seat. His legs drifting haphazardly into what should have been the personal space of some of his...lets call them comrades...for the day's work. The dark haired boy may not have been a delinquent, but it was hardly his first time having to do some labor or some chore after getting hauled in by the disciplinary committee. In this case (as with all the cases) Tak had made one to many off color remarks and gotten tossed out of class.

Though in Tak's defense, when a teacher told him to stand up so that he might answer a question, Tak thought the remark "Aww come on Teach, even teen boys can't just stand up on command, thats why folks invented viagra!" was perfectly appropriate. Weirdly, nobody had laughed, even though that was clearly hilarious!

At any rate, Tak clearly found something amusing at the minor tsukkomi and boke routine unfolding before hand.

"See Leon," Tak said jovially, thumping the other fellow's seat with his elbow. "How many times I gotta tell you, you will never be a main character with an attitude like that! I mean look at you, dreaming of girls when you are ignoring the one right in front of you!"

At that, Tak formed the thumb and forefinger of each into his hands into a rough rectangle, emulating a picture frame, which he aimed in the direction of Gabriella.

Specifically, at a section of her body comprising the area just below her neck and ending at her kneecaps.

"I mean look at that body. I don't really go for the perverted protagonist role, to cliche, to many bitch slaps. But even I am feeling a little religious ecstasy, if you know what I am saying here. But come on now, pretty girl right there and your head is already off in the clouds, you wont get nun at this rate!"

Tak looked around, as if expecting wild applause at the joke.

[Katie]

Gwendolyn Bright
Van Interior ~ Front

She called shotgun—but it wasn’t as if there was anyone else to contest. After all, the ever reliable teacher’s aide had to sit in the front, right? It was, of course, more than likely Mr. Remington had only let her sit in front because she was not a problem child unlike the rest. And for a suck up, she never tried flattering her teachers. She just did stuff for them, and actions were way better than words.

Also, she got carsick. Being in the front, being able to stare out the window, that helped a lot. Who knows what kind of mockery she’d receive if she ended up throwing up in a school van. She definitely wasn’t eager to find out, because the back was full of delinquents who quite obviously could care less about her. She felt the same way, if only because logic told her that any attempts in trying to show empathy would be ill-advised.

Taking a quick look in the back, she saw what could only be aptly described as “chaotic teenager things,” and went back to counting cars as they passed by, wondering if she could dig into her bag and… No, definitely not. Certainly not appropriate at this time and place, and only one of them was napping in the back. She had nerd cred to protect, if that was a thing.

…Maybe she shouldn’t have done her homework last night and instead done it in the car—about the same amount of time, but at least at home she could do other things after her shift.

[Bloble]

Jacob Hopeman
Van Interior ~ Middle

There was a mess in the back. A mess Jacob was thankful to be at least partially insulated from. While he hadn't been so lucky as to grab the front seat, thanks to the teacher's pet being practiced in the art of sticking her hand up before everyone else, he'd at least ended up away from the two dumbasses in the back. The middle wasn't so bad. Just a crazy Christian girl. At least Tak "Motherfucker" Johnson wasn't spreading his shit around where it'd get in Jacob's way.

Jacob had been fortunate enough to bring his stuff, but he wasn't much interested in it. Instead, he decided to do his nails. Black was getting boring, but it'd serve as backing for the next layer. The constant rumbling of the van and the commotion in the back were simple enough to ignore.

"One, two, three..."

Tiny brush strokes left trails of white, counting up in roman numerals from left to right, starting as "I" on his left pinky and ending in "X" on his right.

Ten fingers. Ten commandments. Almost like it'd been planned. He looked at Gabrielle and snickered.

[RacingeR]

Jill Dumont
Van Interior ~ Back

If anything, Jill was regretting her participation in that one prank very much right now.

Despite her dyed pink hair, most people would think that Jill looked out of place between this mix of delinquents and suck-ups, and they would be right. Generally speaking, she was very popular, both inside and outside the school. Perks that came with being a teenaged detective so good at her thing that the police consulted with her often, and she had a zillion cases fall on her lap almost every day. She wasn’t quite in any of the cliques, but she wasn’t an outsider either, and was well liked by most of her peers.

Of course, social standing had its uses, and she couldn’t help being dragged into a dumbass prank by one of her better friends in the school. It had gone too far, of course, and to make things worse, she had been the only one they had caught. School knew there were others involved, but instead of extending their punishment to them, they had the incredibly bright idea of making Jill, and only Jill, into an example. And here she was.

It was mildly irritating, and rather aggravating. Here was the greatest detective in town, and probably in the whole of the state, stuck in this shitty van with the lamest people in the school, including her super-duper-lame childhood friend. Although, at least, he seemed to be sharing her disinterest in the whole shebang.

Jill sighed, changing her position in her seat in the back’s corner, away from the rest of the students, staring at the papers she was holding with annoyance. A burglar had been stealing around town, and had entered and ransacked at least six houses already, and the police had been unable to pinpoint a single clue regarding the thief’s identity. Not that Jill was getting much out of these photos of the crime scene or the papers with the case information, with all the noise going down in the van. Too many distractions. Not that the case interested her very much.

Nothing very interesting last month, apart from another missing person case, which had proven to be unsolvable. Not that it was anything weird, the town had a disturbing amount of missing cases… and cases in general, for that matter. Jill had been bored, and this little excursion was doing nothing to make her less annoyed. She grumbled to herself, and put the papers away in the bag, huddling on her trenchcoat as she stared at the other people in the van. The school had never liked her wearing the coat, but it was essential apparel for a detective, damnit.

“Hey, have you heard? The house we’re going to has quite the story~” Jin smiled sweetly as she spoke in her usual tone, her stare going from Leon to Gabriella as she spoke “remember that story in the radio? It’s about the place~ sounds like something taken out of an horror movie, doesn’t it?”

“Uwaa... how scary~ I hope we can avoid the horror movie stereotypes, like the impure unmarried couple and stuff like that~”

[Bloble]

Jacob Hopeman
Van Interior ~ Middle

"You die first," Jacob said. He was biting Jill's hook, but it was juicier than the bullshit the two meatheads in the back were spouting, and she knew it. He counted off each death, one by one. "Then Johnson, thinking with his Johnson, is picked off next. Teach gets a good idea and is dragged into the murder closet before he can say it. Leon and Gwen realize their inexplicable love for each other, then they get doused with gasoline and burn to death. You'll find what's left of me in the trash. Only Gabby lives to see dawn because she's a good little virgin and God loves her."

He paused.

"Or we'll be lucky and it'll be something less derivative. A Hellraiser or Psycho instead of a Child's Play Three."

[RacingeR]

Jill Dumont
Van Interior ~ Back

“Dunno~, aren’t you the prime candidate to get picked out first?” Jill questioned, “or perhaps you disappear or something and you are the prime suspect for a while until we run into your corpse.”

“Either way I can’t die first, I’m the detective!” This was bringing her back some nostalgic memories. Jacob and her had binge-watched horror movies during a big part of their shared childhood, much to their parents’ chagrin.

“I doubt we’ll be getting a Psycho, though. I hear the house’s abandoned right now, ain’t it?”

[arkturus]

Katrina “Kat” Auburn
Van Interior ~ Middle

Katrina stretched her mouth open into a large yawn, the sudden bustle of music and conversation preventing her from nodding off. She shifted in her seat slightly to sit up and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. It sucked that she had to be out here early in the morning. On a weekend too. If only she didn't punch the ref during the last game even though he was definitely singling her out. She could've been wrapped in her comfortable, warm bed and slept away the morning. Or at least until her rowdy little brothers jumped into her bed in an attempt to wrestle her into submission. Though even in that sleepy state she would've won the tag-team ambush.

Still, she was here so she might as well make the best of it. Maybe she could get some good exercise in and con people into playing trash hockey or shooting hoops into the bin. Could be fun.

"You idiot. The fact that the house is abandoned makes it the perfect place for a Psycho to hide in." Kat shifted so that she could kneel on the seat to face the pink haired girl sitting behind her and propped her elbows on the headrest, feet pushing into the back of the the awkward TA's seat.

"And since you're so blind to that fact, you're a prime target to be attacked until I come valiantly save you." She gave Jill a playful grin.

[Mormarth]

"I mean look at that body. I don't really go for the perverted protagonist role, to cliche, to many bitch slaps. But even I am feeling a little religious ecstasy, if you know what I am saying here. But come on now, pretty girl right there and your head is already off in the clouds, you wont get nun at this rate!"

Leon chortled in appreciation, then wagged his finger knowingly, "Ah, ah, ah, Mr. Johnson, I wouldn't be so quick to sniff around and judge where I have and haven't been!"

Then he flicked his eyes across to the dozing girl in the corner, paused for a moment, opening his mouth as if to speak.

“Uwaa... how scary~ I hope we can avoid the horror movie stereotypes, like the impure unmarried couple and stuff like that~”

Then he abruptly swung his attention back to the front, grin seeming a little strained.

"Whoa there, Nancy Drew! If anything, you're prolly gonna get killed, I mean, look at you." He did so, thankfully not openly leering, "Dyed hair, fancy coat, sassy attitude, my money's on Gwenny up front, Gabby in the middle, or sweetie Sarah by the window for surviving. I'm a cocky son of a gun, so I'm probably gonna get lured out by some sexy lady voice and then bam!" He slapped his hand for emphasis, "Right through the groin, then they'll hang me up and drain me dry like one of those slaughterhouse pigs."

He bobbed his eyebrows in good cheer.

"Stop it, Leon," came the disapproving voice of Gabriella from the middle, she was hugging herself slightly, "Don't remind me of that creepazoid up in Maine."

He held up his hands in surrender, smile fading slightly.

"Besides," She sniffed, "It wouldn't a serial killer up in that house, it'd have to be something like a monster or some kind of demon buried under the house. How else would they all go missing in one night?"

[RacingeR]

Jill Dumont
Van Interior ~ Back

“Ah~ you don’t get it Kat, I’m talking ‘bout the movie, the movie! A serial killer hiding in the house would be too plain and boring!” Jill puffed up her cheeks. “Hey, I’m the detective, I prolly die second-to-last, after solving the case, so the incorruptible girl of pure pureness can go back out there and get run on by a truck or something~”

“In any case I can’t picture you not dying first or second, Kat, you’re too obvious a target!” Jill answered the girl’s quip, sending an equally playful grin her way.

“But man, if we’re going to the supernatural, I hope it ain’t a cliché like an Indian graveyard or some shit like that.” Jill stopped for a moment to consider. “Gotta be something like the house itself being cursed, alive, waiting to eat us up one by one~ like in that one movie, how was it called?”

She couldn’t say that her interest wasn’t picked by this particular cold case, almost made her want to try her hand at it, but… it was too cold, the trails probably were gone by now. Damn shame.

[Bloble]

Jacob Hopeman
Van Interior ~ Middle

"If that's the case..."

Jacob lightly kicked the seat in front of his, lining up his taps with Kat's.

"Bright, Bright, Bright, shed, some, light. Isn't it the job of the smart person to exposit on history while we all stand amazed at the girth of their... pocket encyclopedia? Go on, tell us about ancient burial grounds or gruesome town facts. I'm sure you'll get full marks on it."

[arkturus]

Katrina “Kat” Auburn
Van Interior ~ Middle

"Oh not a bad idea girlyman." Spinning around to face the front of the car again, Kat pulled on her seat belt to give her enough slack so she could move forward off her seat and leaned against the back of passenger seat.

"C'mon Gwyn, tell us about the hidden dark underbelly of our quiet and unassuming town." She punctuated her words by lightly poking the cheek of the girl in sitting in front of her.

[Katie]

Gwendolyn Bright
Van Interior ~ Front

Alas, her wish for silence was to be interrupted. They were all trying to rib her one way or the other, and in the end, it probably wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. But really, asking her about town history? She couldn’t care less—she spent her time studying other stuff, after all.

Then one of them reached over and poked her in the cheek. Were they all twelve or something? Jesus.

“I mean… my part-time job is located at a former butcher’s shop once owned by the owners of that mansion, I think. Boss said it one day when we—never mind.” Giving hints about where she worked was probably a terrible idea. Definitely a terrible idea, once she put a modicum of thought into it.

“And don’t poke me, please.”

Please, let alone the basic concept of politeness, was probably lost on them all. Still, old habits die hard.

[RacingeR]

Jill Dumont
Van Interior ~ Back

“…” Jill stared at Gwendolyn in silence for a moment. There was a sharp glint to her eyes that hadn’t been there before as her stare bore holes on the girl, examining and investigating her every gesture clinically.

Suddenly, Jill leaned forwards over Jacob, still staring at the prim and proper student with the same strange sharpness in her eyes.

“What else did your boss say?” She asked in her same sweet tone of always, although there was something different in it. Nobody could quite put their finger on what, but the difference was there.

[Katie]

Gwendolyn Bright
Van Interior ~ Front

“Taco Bell is nasty for your insides?” That man did know his fast food, and dang did his lunch break look gross that day. She could remember it with a frightening clarity… and how she had to cover for him for the hours afterward. Ugh.

“Can’t say I really pay attention to those sorts of things? It’s work, I go there to get paid, not… think about if the place was haunted or anything.” Really, she didn’t see the point in that. Who asked this question again? The wannabe detective? Or was she an actual detective—whatever. Wouldn’t a detective have much better and more logical reasoning to follow and use rather than ask about ghost stories?

It struck Gwendolyn as massively impractical to devote any sort of focus to the supernatural.

[Mormarth]

[!]

[Workplace Secret, Former Butcher's Shop revealed! Tag: Mundane, Bullying]

Despite not having much to contribute at this point in posting, I feel as though this, although something of a joke, would be useful as an introduction to the [Clue] mechanic. Similarly to [Proofs] used in certain other mediums, each one of these obtained allows for certain bonuses and gives you important insights and knowledge to what you will be facing in the shadows beyond sight.

In fact, it could be said that without these [Clues], some enemies may not even be possible to defeat!

These act as sort of a 'special power' that those of you with investigative-type abilities may use in contrast with other, more 'conventional' abilities and talents.

[RacingeR]

Jill Dumont
Van Interior ~ Back

“Ah~ is that so~?” Jill pulled back, whatever change had overtaken her disappearing as fast as it had appeared. She seemed to have lost interest in the conversation rather quickly.

This was disappointing. And here she thought there’d be something to break the monotony of this annoying voyage. How disappointing, Bright. How disappointing, you could’ve been useful for once.

With those thoughts, Jill drew back to her little corner and started to turn the gears in her head, working inside her mind in one little case or the other.

[Airen]

Sarah Parker
Van Interior ~ Back

While the sudden appearance of puns had caused her pain that bordered on the physical, the dark haired girl had seemingly managed to keep her sleeping facade in place. Admittedly, sitting the way she was was starting to make her feel a bit sick, and she was probably twitching a bit too much to be convincingly asleep, but keeping her head down for as long as she could, she had quietly listened to the conversations going on around her, body stiffening only slightly when the topic had shifted from the more mundane killers, to the possibility of the supernatural.

It sounded like they were joking...

But as far as Sarah was concerned, things like that were completely and totally possible. She had no intention of saying why she thought so, not just because she was feeling too lazy for extended conversation, but also because she was positive no one would believe her anyway, and she had no intention of getting turned into that 'weird girl that believes in ghosts.'

'Weird girl that takes naps on the roof and beats up assholes' was enough of a title for her already.

Besides...

There were no goddamn trains around here anyway.

Probably.

Still feeling rather anti-social, but also suffering a bit of carsickness from staring at the floor, Sarah finally assumes a more awake position, head resting on the fist of her left arm, eyes aimlessly moving from one person to another.

After a few seconds, she opens her mouth for a brief moment, as if there was something she wanted to say, and then...

"..."

Nope.

Still nothing.

[Mormarth]

"Alright you punks, knock it off and look sharp."

A Solaris Studios Production

The sharp tones of the harsh teacher rang through the van, stilling the law of silence as you all gazed out the windows.

You had arrived.

The lawn was a wreck, torn up and dotted with holes and strapped bare of all greenery, piping and gas lines exposed to the sky above to prepare for the coming construction. Drinks and bags from local fast food joints dotted the landscape, tossed about by the faint chilly breeze from the north.

A lone worker, bundled up tight, bustled around the yard, picking up the assorted garbage that littered the outside, his head rose to regard you as the doors swung open and you trooped out into the frosty morning

The old Carter place loomed like a crusty old gargoyle, the gothic-inspired architecture clashing with the pleasant white fences that so commonly sprung up around town, the wood paneling around the windows and doors had been chipped away by lack of maintenance, haphazard boards blocked off shattered windows, some hung off, scraping against the outside of the manor with a quiet scraping noise.

It felt wrong, the joking conversation about a maniac lurking in the bowels of such a place no longer seemed so funny anymore.

"You the guys doin' the clean-up?"

A brusque, heavy tone of voice, the cleaning worker matched to it perfectly, squat, jowely, and possessing of small, swinely eyes that tracked over you with no real interest.

"Er, yeah. We're from Jon Edwards, couple of kids up here doing weekend detention, I'm the supervisor, name's Remmington, you?"

A hand was offered, hung there awkwardly as the demo worker glanced at it, and slowly descended back down to hang at the health teacher's side. Gabby bristled.

He looked back up blandly, "Jackson, I'm the stiff cleaning the yard, for a couple more minutes at least. Keys 're in the door, bags are in the main hall. Don't touch any of the equipment, an' uh, don't mess around in the basement too much. Support beams are starting to crap out."

He nodded lazily, then marched back over to his half-assed clean up job.

"Nice to see there's a fella that enjoys his work," said Leon disdainfully, tugging at a crocheted scarf that hung around his neck.

The wind whistled through the barren landscape that surrounded what was once something to be proud of.

"Well," said Remmington steadily, a note of irritation in his voice, "Guess we should get to work."

You all crunched through snow that filled in small holes where some sort of walkway had once been, then clumped up half-collapsed stairs to a long deck, a wooden door, tall and stately, stood resolute in the face of a time that had left it behind.

Leon, the first to arrive, fiddled with a large set of keys that hung in the door, and with a grunt of effort from the tall boy, a lock clumped back and the old oak door creaked open.

Entrance Hall, First Floor
8:05 AM

He wrinkled his nose and grimaced sharply, "God, the fuck's that smell."

The dim light of the morning made the entrance hall seem like a complete void of all hope, an old curdled stench slunk out of the portal, rot and dust and secrets sidled around you, beckoning you onward.

"Language."

Remmington, seemingly unphased, fished a flashlight out of the large bag he'd slung over his shoulder and flicked it on, casting the beam around the entrance hall.

It was barren, like the exterior, vague shapes of where pictures must have once been hung stood out against the curling wallpaper, dust hung everywhere, the entrance hall extended forwards into the old house, two doors flanked your sides, an accompanying pair further ahead in the foyer, at the end of the long, deused hallway, a grand staircase ascended upwards into darkness.

Gabriella sneezed.

"Right then, grab a bag and buddy up, we got a big house to clean, and who knows what kind of garbage a bunch of UniCorp stiffs have been dragging around."

He jerked his thumb to the right, "I'll take that door, anyone want to go with me is free to, rest of you, grab a partner and a couple of bags-" He tossed a pile of industrial-sized garbage bags out of his shoulder bag, which he pushed into a corner with his foot, "And get moving, plumbing still works, so you shouldn't have to piss out the window."

"You fill up a bag, come down and grab another, each group gets a flashlight, batteries are there next to 'em, anyway gets caught not comin back for half-hour check-up, I'm taking it out of your ass."

He eyed Leon irritably.

He clapped his hands, "Let's get this show on the road, people, we're here for four hours!"