Lennon had gotten busy preparing his sandwich. One thing he could say for the place was the food was excellent and plentiful. Sometimes his fridge at home had gotten pretty sad; at one time there was something in a container that had become completely unidentifiable. By the time it had turned green and purple he and his housemates had decided to throw it away.
He spared a glance at Marco when the guy asked if he had heard him and Owen talking. "I heard voices, but I didn't hear words," he said, slinging his knife and then making a face when a blob of mayo landed on the counter. He'd have to wipe that up. "Look, it's crystal clear you don't wanna say what it was about, so I won't ask, okay?"