Oh I'm right here.

"It is huh? How bad is it tonight?" She asked, waking up a bit more as she sat up in bed. "Because if its that bad, I’ll prepare myself to ripping out a pickax out of your hands." 

"He's restless... It's been -- Shit, almost a month. Been layin' low." He nudged the door to his car shut with his hip, pickax slung lazily over his shoulder as he glanced up to her place.

It took her a few seconds to recognized the voice on the other line before answering. “Yeah, Tom you can come over now.” Sarah said, yawning a bit. “Is there something wrong?” 

"No... I just.." He let out a slow breath, tongue wetting his lower lip. "It's on of those nights."

"-- Sarah?" Tom sounded hesitant, unsure -- But she was one of the few people that he trusted. A hand lifted, running through his short hair. "... Can I come over?"

because there’s nothing like some good old Tom Hanniger slogans

"He’s a psycho.  He winds up murdering half the people he knows.  He’s delusional.  But Tom Hanniger.. I just want to help him.  Hold him close and tell him it’ll be okay and help him heal."