Likewise, the Cajun cringed as he watched those containers topple over, lifting up a hand to rub over the back of his head. Oh. Merde. That was gonna fuck things up.
But then Sabo was suggesting he go, and the Cajun was nodding his agreement. Yeah, he should definitely make himself scarce. "Don' you take all 'de blame f' 'dat-- tell 'em some han'some, charmin' scoundrel did it." A wide, pleased smile flashed over his face, charming as he claimed to be, and he gave his friend a nod and would take off at a brisk jog to get himself out of there before people came around and started asking questions.
It seemed like this was going to be the start of a beautiful friendship.