"Yes-sir!" Stoney tossed off an impertinent salute with a grin.
"It's OK, I won't fight you for bass, if that's what you prefer. I do well enough, I suppose." His gaze fell to his hands "I'll let you in on a secret. Dad hasn't played with Dethklok for several years now. We've put a double on stage, and I play behind the curtain. I'll play for you later." His hand traced over Blackjack.
"Which one is Soren?" His stomach rumbled again and he shushed it. "Lean, I think. I had some greasy boiled grey stuff at the pub, and it came back up after the first portkey transit. Should we pick up your niece?"