You were slugging my whiskey straight out of the bottle. You have no idea how much you actually drank.

[The temptation flickers briefly to fall into step next to Abbacchio and rest a hand at the small of his back, just for the sake of guiding him with greater ease. Sort of funny, maybe, to have reservations about someone he fucked in a closet today, but — no, nah, better not.]

C'mon, the elevator's over here. We can go down to basement one, there's a garage there.