"Nah, overwhelming is thinking you are good and dead, then finding out that you are quite the opposite. Alive and well and just moved to a different location." He wanted a drink suddenly. A stiff one at that. The kind of drink that bit back when you ingested it. Just remembering that evening; the cold, icy weather in Illinois during winter, when he had cried to Shadow about being fucked over the loss of a coin. The same fucken coin that he now knew Shadow's somewhat 'dead' wife had.
Clutching the bottle of Jameson, he was certain he froze to death. But no, he wound up here instead and for that, he was grateful. "Everyone gets here differently I guess. The City decides and it takes. Ain't anything some pissant like me - Sweeney," which was as good of an introduction as she was getting as far as his name went, "should question."
Then the red-headed giant smiled again. "I ain't a threat to you anyway, so I'm glad I don't frighten you. I think the only thing I'm a threat to right now is a bottle of fine Irish Whiskey." He had such a weakness for Irish Whiskey.