#>:x

       no objections there—a significant lack, even. there's nothing quite like a grown man flaunting his prey ( today embodied by two massive bags of premium coffee beans ) before his weary eyes to conjure up subtle amusement in his voice. "whenever you're done gloating, detective, ——" if there's anything lucky about his predicament of a failed solitary life, it surely must be that at the very least his main adversary needn't be told about his impact. a determined ego would reap its due praise before he'd ever get around to choking up a personal confession on his own accord. "—mind refilling the machine ... ?"