Harlow couldn't help laughing, ignoring the guards entirely as they walked past them. He'd already had altercations with half of them, and most of them didn't bother asking him any questions anymore. Most of them knew better. "We could go down to the Urban Outfitters midtown and check it out," Harlow snickered, hooking his hand behind Mort's arm and starting to steer him towards the bar without his permission once they were inside the library. "They're probably all there, leaking PBR out of their engorged stomachs and gurgling about Whitman. Are you alright with me getting you drunk now? Because that's what I'm about to do."