“Look , Jeff --“
“WHERE, Bob? I was ‘averting my EYES!’ .-- What IS this? MESS WITH THE NEW GUY? ”
“My cousin George is the hospice coordinator for Chrissakes; EMT’S get 200 for the TOD. Kick George 25 for dibs,-- THIS guy died hours ago – “
“Tell that to the talking stiff. – CORE math, Bob? You said FIFTY bucks.”
“The Living Dead and you’re worried about your cut –where’s my pack?”
“Here,” Jeff offered and lit both of their cigarettes. “Everyone in the station house smoke?“
“ Smoke is smoke -- to a dragon.”