Familiar. Okay, that's great. So she's magic? Does that make this a magic rodent?

What the hell has Tim got them involved in, and why is it his fault instead of Jay's this time. This is right up there with accepting a bag of old, unlabeled tapes in the first damn place.

The thought doesn't do much to improve his mood.

"Great," says Tim, shutting the door with more force than intended or needed. He stands back, well away from the source of the cold prickle against his skin, and folds his arms. "So what is it you can do? You said you could help."