God bless Louisiana and the drawl that it had left Wyatt with. Most people picked it up, so he wasn’t real surprised when the new guy did. Hadn’t stepped foot in that city in over ten years, but that honeyed drawl clung to every syllable still. “It shows, huh?” Wyatt flicked the ash from the end of his cigarette, tilted his head so Boston could catch his smirk. “New Orleans, but I ain’t stepped foot there since I was a dumb kid.” His half-sister kept hounding him to come visit, but he hadn’t yet. Didn’t feel all that bad about it either. She wanted to see him, she could come to Kamong.
“Do a real good Aussie accent though, when I have to.” Not really, if any of his friends were to be believed. He sounded like that Crocodile Hunter with a whole slew of marbles in his mouth. It didn’t really qualify as a ‘good accent’.
Flicking the rest of his cigarette ash, Wyatt stubbed the butt out in the ashtray provided and turned so he could lean against the rail with his back. “Hell if I know man, never been on one, can’t figure you’d want to be in each other’s pockets all the time.” By the sound of it though Boston wasn’t on a honeymoon if he thought it was so funny that Wyatt had asked. “I’m a mechanic down at the marina. Run tours once in awhile too. You should check one out, we got a badass duck rock that we’ll show you.” Kendall thought it was hilarious, and most of the tourists took pictures with it, or tried. Wyatt didn’t see the appeal, but he didn’t have to. “And a couple a other things, but everyone seems to like the duck best.”