“You get him fixed up?”

“I put so much tape on him he looks like a whatsis. A caterpillar.”

“Where’d you put him? Not in the building, right?”

“You think I’m fucking stupid? No. He’s lying in a car in parking lot. It’s parked far enough away that he should be fine.”

“Should be? Or will be?”

“He might get a little hot. That’s okay. Boss will like that part.”

“You got that gas can? Good. Pour it around the base of the stove, there. I’ll get the rags.”

“Sure is a waste. All this great booze.”

“Yeah, well. Rules.”