"I'll take my ordered out grease in a box thank you very much." He chuckled a little, "You know me so well." He patted his stomach and secretly thanked god or whoever was responsible for the fact that he could eat basically whatever he pleased with very little consequence. Right now though, an ulcer would be the least of his problems. "What do you feel like? Mexican Grease? Italian Grease? Seafood Grease? Chinese Grease?" He leaned back and sipped his beer, "Doesn't matter if they deliver I can run out and grab it if its close. I gotta make a packie run, and get more cigarettes while I'm at it." He took out his almost empty pack of cigarettes and sighed, he was buying an awful lot more of them lately. So often that he'd started carrying mouthwash, a toothbrush, and tooth paste on him to work. He was a professional after all, and it was acceptable to smell like oil, but not cigarettes, not in his eyes.