"A pleasure, Mr. Kaminski." Zio waited until the other man had settled into his chair before he reclaimed his own. He considered the tone, matched it with the frat-boy-dressing-for-dinner appearance, and reached a sum that made him want to roll his eyes. All he did, however, was smile warmly. Really, it would have been ridiculous to expect anything else. Charities of all stripes worked with what they had - pinch-penny funds, out-dated materials, and lumps of clay such as Doug Kaminski. He decided not to correct the joke and merely relaxed back in his chair. "Zio Moreno." He grinned. "Obviously. I'm vetting for Miss Checkbook."