Tony blinked, "'Dead'? If he's dead then where's the body? Why did he up and disappear in a cloud of dust, eh? Just what is going on here? What are you people playing at?"
This sort of thing might be fine and well in America but Tony would have none of it. He demanded facts. Facts were his religion.
He noticed the touch to his arm and relented slightly in his outrage. "My name is Tony Hill. And... thank you, Jared."
Tony had noted the other man's accent. Sounded English- hard to place what part of England, though. However, no matter which part he was from it was nice to hear a familiar accent in this wash of Americans. It was a little piece of home, if you will.