PRACTICALLY PROFESSIONAL.

               Did he? That was the million dollar question. The one he’d been racking his brain about since about five seconds after it happened. Last night snuck up on him-- both of them, Frank’s assuming, unless Ned’s got a much better poker face than anyone’s given him credit for. The problem with being snuck up on is that you’ve never got a good look at your situation. A firework sounds just the same as a bomb, if you’re not expecting it. Now, without sleep, all Frank can identify is that something blew up last night. Good or bad. BOOM. “I don’t know.” He’s supposed to be able to read people. He’s don’t it his whole life! People who’re a hell of a lot more evasive and closed off than Ned frickin’ Nickerson! Still, he’s coming up empty. His brother would be able to read him, Frank thinks. A second later, he’s so glad Joe’s not here to try. “This kind of thing doesn’t really happen, in my world.” To sound more lame would be an active challenge. “Usually the things I do are... on purpose.” @heworries·