[Salone]

Isaac eyed the exchange between the fantastically flamboyant man and his Servant, watching the scene with a bemused eyebrow that climbed higher and higher as the man continued.

"I'd offer you a Curly Wurly, but er..." he paused for a bit, looking down at the man's unzipped trousers. "I see you already brought your own."

He pulled the dog end out from behind his ear, giving the man time to recover his dignity if he so chose to. He lit the thing once again, taking a drag before speaking. I could do it, he thought. Just one cough. Lyme disease is in vogue this time of year. Bloody restraints...

"Listen up, Creampuff. Before your dad forgot to use a french tickler, I was putting bodies back together and putting holes in others. I'm an old tosser, but I'm a smart old fart. That's how you get old, see. And that right there is Assassin. Simmer over that name for a second mate. Assassin. You know what an Assassin does? They tiptoe around and kill people. Now let's take a look at you, Creampuff. Dressed up like Moist von Lipwig. You stick out like a three quid thong and you're twice as loud as the tart wearing it. So remember that once this gets underway, eh?"