"Our own faults for being so damn attractive," Mark said with a nonchalant shrug. The bathroom door was slightly ajar from Glibt's exit, and Mark couldn't help catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He did good, even through the loose clothing. Maybe there was a reason he didn't feel funny; a sarcastic, quick witted sense of humour was no longer needed to compensate for his lack of good looks. Now he was just Ivy-League educated and attractive. It almost wasn't fair.
Mark slipped his arm around Glibt's waist before he started walking towards the bedroom door. "Do you have documents for this body, or do want me to get some made?" he asked. "I've got mine in a safety deposit box somewhere, probably in Virginia." Or maybe South Carolina. He was going to have refresh his memory on the history of his alter-self. "And you have to remember to do something about the houses-- maybe rent them out to your new ego and keep them under the Harvey Stonewall name."