"Well, that was an elaborate threat," Midnighter says with a shrug. He's impressed, in a dull way. In the back of his mind, he notes to himself: this one's good at talking and crowd control. That, he assumes, can probably be used by someone at some point. Not Midnighter: he's a strictly busting-heads kind of guy. But maybe somebody else'll needs help with scaring the shit out of locals in the future. You never know.

They're supposed to be some kind of team or whatever, right?

"I'll keep you in my little black book under 'way too pleased with himself for being a creepy little shit'."