“Why do I feel that we’re the ones always doing all the hard work?” said Jack, perching on the back of a pew in the front row of the empty Church of the Holy Spirit. There weren’t even any drones here.
“Because you’re not used to hard work,” said Fingers, sitting on the pew, one arm draped along the top. “Honestly, you’d think you’d broke a nail or something following Danton for a few days. What were you going to be doing anyway? Washing your hair?”
“Jeezus. Don’t you start too. I can’t understand why you’re so keen on this madness.”
“We’re already dead. Apart from hanging out here shooting the breeze about all those great jobs we done, the ones we can remember at any rate, what were we going to do? We’re just having a laugh. Think Danton can do anything worse than kill us again?”
“It’
