[I can handle him. Ned lets a wry "famous last words" die in his throat and feels his upset stomach reach up to make him nod. He doesn't agree and he's certain that the Devil could decorate the walls with his insides like an explosive went off in a plastic bag full of chili, but he doesn't say any more on the subject.]
Great.
[His 'smile' looks more like a grimace, but it's best to leave the Pie Maker be.]
no subject
Great.
[His 'smile' looks more like a grimace, but it's best to leave the Pie Maker be.]
I won't, uh, owe you anything, will I?
[People just don't do Nice Things for free.]