It's more than a little cramped in there. Some things got shuffled around between custodial and maintenance somewhere in the switch, and Arthur is a big man. He looks like he couldn't turn around without bumping into something.
"Hey, uh-- shit, goddamn, they didn't design this for human beings."
"So I've been told," he says cheerfully enough, but that's not what he's here for. Which is why he tilts his head towards the hallway. "What can I do for you?"
He tucks the cookie into a breast pocket, and steps one more step into the
closet.
"Start big, I figure. Debris, put things where they ought to be goin'. Then
we can see about fixin' things, cleaning things. I got- gloves over here,
I'm pretty sure."
He fishes his ring of keys out of a different pocket, and unlocks the
cabinet- only to stop short.
"...huh. Now that don't look like no gloves to me."
What isn't gloves is about two dozen bottles of clearly home-brewed booze. He's got one forearm braced against the closet and has stepped aside to let Warren see.
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It's more than a little cramped in there. Some things got shuffled around between custodial and maintenance somewhere in the switch, and Arthur is a big man. He looks like he couldn't turn around without bumping into something.
"Hey, uh-- shit, goddamn, they didn't design this for human beings."
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"Well. Not for anyone with shoulders like yours. Or mine. Probably best I... stay right here."
A pause before he reaches into a pocket and pulls out a little napkin-wrapped bundle.
"Cookie?"
Look. Blood sugar is a concern for the overworked.
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He takes it without really thinking about it. Food is food, and you'd best stock up while you can.
"Man of many talents, ain't you?"
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He tucks the cookie into a breast pocket, and steps one more step into the closet.
"Start big, I figure. Debris, put things where they ought to be goin'. Then we can see about fixin' things, cleaning things. I got- gloves over here, I'm pretty sure."
He fishes his ring of keys out of a different pocket, and unlocks the cabinet- only to stop short.
"...huh. Now that don't look like no gloves to me."
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"How 'bout that?"
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"Well."
He's very curious about that. Both who put it there, who's making it, and whether the quality of the hooch is anything to shake a stick at.
"How about that indeed."
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"We were planning on brewing some moonshine in a spare room. Didn't figure there was much reason to hide it, after all. But this-"
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"Well, I'll leave it here for now. But this place is gonna get a better lock, that's a sure thing."
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"There you go."
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He'll waggle his communicator.
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"Thank you, partner."
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And then he's out and going.