"I could be Miss Cleo," Richie said, sitting upright a little, a light in his eyes that had nothing to do with fortune telling or mind reading or whatever and all to do with the fact that he'd basically just been granted permission to do a Voice. "Y'really want t'know," he said, full on Jamaican accent coming out. "Who's th' fadder of your babee? Lemme just look at th'cards--" He cut himself short with a little laugh before sobering up a little. "I'll see him. Yeah."
He smoothed Billie's fur out again, getting rid of the Richie face print there, all while she waggled her butt in pleasure over getting attention. He and this dog, they were a lot alike.
"Oh," he said, frowning. Yeah. Mike or Ben would probably know more than them. But those two weren't here. "Oh well. I don't think it's a big deal."