"That'n'a long prayer on a day of fasting." Not that ole Jimmy's one for preachers and churching, but there his stomach goes, twisting and knotting and growling like a mother o' zerglings. Crawling the desert lands builds up a mean appetite.

He's got the teeth to show he's a predator incarnate. Grins out, and lets the sand course and settle and be, like the world coming to the conclusion of a fast exhalation. Sure, man. Element of surprise. That's what took'em here.

"Beggin' your pardon to crush whatever good opinion you might have had early." You know, of the tall, dark, dubiously handsome but decisively gnarly man battling middle age, sheer disdain for rank and the longevity of his liver with equal efficiency. "I was for the officers' mess. Long day."

And it ain't getting shorter with the sun scratching their eyes. "You?"