S.T. grinned at Charon's attempt at a comeback. Wouldn't be the strangest thing at one of his parties. Or the only man-eater, though he knew better than to say that out loud even in the absence of any girls. Especially not Kraken-Jaws-Cher-Mermaid hybrids lurking just under the surface. All supposition, but around here, worst-case scenarios and flights of fancy tended to come true.

So he just climbed out of the boat and waited for Scott to finish his dramatic inscription reading. "Beats a guaranteed death match." The last few words were said through clenched teeth. He could only get so many words out without taking another breath. Why couldn't they have hit this side first when he'd lost his sense of smell? Putrescine was bad enough when he was in charge of the stinkbombs.

"Hey, Boney. Want--" Nope. He wasn't getting through the entire offer. No freebies for Bonehead. Then he leaned over and vomited. Half-digested steak blended in with the scenery. Between heaves, he looked up at Harvey and waved a hand at the doors. "Pick one."