Karr had a moment of delight when he thought that he was going to get to drive, but no. Just start the car. He grunted, and then grunted again even more loudly when the keys connected with his gut. Both hands were occupied with the bottles of booze, and a man had to have his priorities! Tucking one bottle under his arm, he stooped to snatch up the keys and stomp out of the joint. He did as instructed, starting up the car and opening the doors. He was ready to slide into the back when Logan assigned him shotgun. Fine. Fine. Still no titties for him. SIGH. Logan could really be a fucking downer.
He slouched in his seat, one booted foot against the dash as his eyes lingered in the side view mirror, just in case the girls decided to get cuddly or something. He was not going to miss that. Karr blinked, snorted, then scowled over at Logan at his announcement. "What?!" He demanded, throwing both hands into the air. "Yer tha one who ripped up a perfectly nice strip club, she's tha one takin' off her clothes and bumpin' uglies with another girl fer money, an' I'm tha idjit?!" He was quite confused and indignant. He was an entirely innocent bystander here! He had even snapped Logan out of his rage, and he was the idjit? His eyes snapped back to the side-view mirror so he could settle a glare on Laura's reflection. He slouched lower in his chair, folding his arms before his chest in a sulk. "I hate you," he grumbled. It was a fucked up world when the stripper was the favorite child. Humpf.