"Oh, boyo, an explanation like that in my end of town will get your nose broken for you."

But it only makes Ricki chuckle, grabbing one elbow and tugging it up and over his head, a slow, steady cool-down stretch. It exposes the corner of one tattoo, on the forearm, a sailor jerry-ish design of extremely dubious quality.

"You're lucky it's me you found, I'll tell you that for free."

And, since he's here and reasonably friendly.

"You haven't found any cigarettes kicking their way around, have you?"