Leon glanced at Caleb when he joked about singing along. He wondered what would happen if he did, deciding it probably depended on the lyrics and what they were suggesting. When Caleb turned it over to Mickey, the voodooist glanced into the back seat, smirking at his reclined position. It had taken Leon through most of Maine and New York to be convinced that lounging like that in a car was safe. He, however, kept his seatbelt on, nice and secure. He wasn't paranoid. Of course he wasn't.
He listened to the song another moment, wondering what about it Mickey found so awful. He gave an indifferent shrug, stretching his legs out in front under the console and reaching back to hook an arm over the headrest. "With a name like Pitbull, it would be hard to take anyone seriously."
"More fun? I don't know, but it's more economical." The cheaper part was the more important one to Leon.