"I do," agrees Johnny enthusiastically, accepting the bottle and taking a lively swig. Oh, that hits the fuckin spot. He takes a minute to savor it, then hands it back. He looks around the room, then leans over to the bedside table, opening the drawer and rooting around. Bible, hotel stationary, pen. He pulls out the pen and the notepad and starts sketching idly, wanting something to do other than sip.

"So what happened to you, man?" he asks after a minute. Maybe Seth's loosened up, what with the bed and the scotch and the "shower." "Why were you in that room for three months?"