"Comforting," Seifer commented flatly as a plum of white-blue curled out from his mouth and around his head. "You got screwed, is what's happened here because I'm not learning shit and you're an idiot for buying me."
He pulled the half finished cigarette from his mouth and blew out the rest of the smoke from his lungs as he rolled the paper cylinder between his index and middle finger slowly while looking outside once more. "So why the fuck is a California boy way out on an island in the middle of nowhere?" Seifer then asked, mildly curious if Zell was running from something or just a genuine yabbo that had more money than brains and had grand ideas of an idyllic and quaint island life where everything is sunshine and backyard barbecues with the Jones.