A rec room smelled like ass and cigarettes (and there was a distinct undercurrent that might’ve been mold), which was probably why most of the non-smokers and the younger generation avoided this place. The Four Horsemen had a similar scent, only it was laced with the better scent of booze.
“The Eagles are lucky they’re not around anymore to hear you fuck up their song.” He stubbed his cigarette out in the ash tray.
Silas arched an eyebrow, utterly unamused by his friend’s criticisms. “Hey, you fuckin’ deserve that boredom, man. After all those days you let me rot in the infirmary with nothin’ to do.”
He turned his head back to Mike, angling his shoulders as if he were trying to exclude Brandon from the conversation. “So this newtube shit. When’s that gonna happen?”