The kitchen area's in no better state. Every cupboard door stands open, what little food, crockery and other kitchenware Aldo possesses heaved out and flung about. Not a single saucer, plate, glass or mug remains unsmashed. Even the mismatched cutlery's been taken from the drawer and bent out of shape.
Again, the opening notes of Iron Man at the door.
Thump, thump, thump-thump-thump.
Aldo wades through the detritus on his carpet into the hall and opens the door.
“Evening,” Ross says formally, one eyebrow raised in suspicion. “You're looking a bit… weird, mate.”
“Aye. Just smashed up the bedsit.”
“Is that right?” Ross says, looking over Aldo shoulder at the destruction. He shrugs. “Fair dos. Why the f**k not, right? You ready to go?”
Ross looks and sounds remarkably calm considering
