"That's crap and you know it." He picked up the cat, dropped onto the cushion himself, and set it back down. It hissed at him, and looked mournfully at Depth Charge. Good judge of character. "Optimist isn't the same as idiot. Guy does have a brain in there. Moral of the whole film and all." Except D.C. hadn't seen it. "It wasn't your fault, man. Get over it. We can all have a good cry when we've razed this place to the ground and salted the ashes."

Maybe they needed a night off. Tough shit. They couldn't afford one, aside from brainwashing or narcolepsy. He had about fifty things to do and only one of him, and D.C. was the same.

"I'd offer you both some beer." It was probably ready. Past ready, maybe, but he'd been too busy pissing off his newest roommate to check. "Have a few, talk it out over dinner. Before you go try to pet Tabby here when she's gone all were-kitty or whatever he does at night." He shrugged. "But he doesn't like beer."