Re: Quicklog: Jack & Newt at the B&B
[Jack hadn't met any creature with scythes, so he thought Bukowski the most unpleasant experience of feline satisfaction around. He looked into Newt's face without seeing much of it. He'd stopped looking like a boy, which Jack supposed was entirely regular, when you were thirty. The twist of his smile was still circumspect. That much, Jack remembered. The cat looked to be in high heaven, and that was a damn sight easier to look at.]
I always thought it would be the liver. [Bleak, but truthful. Jack's smile curled in on itself until it was black, he fiddled with the tea-bags for want of anything better to do with his hands and as afterthought as the blasted things steeped:] Tea?
[It was no doubt a very poor brew but he handed over the cup with the teabag still floating belly-up and shoved a hand toward the still-half-full jug of milk sitting on the side from his own.] How'd they find him? Dental records?