"Hardly! Are ya kiddin' me? The Scots are still as pansy a drinkers as ever." He grinned good-naturedly as he sat down across from Mick, listening to his words with an ever growing knit in his brow. Great. Just great. This just got worse and worse, and ran deeper and deeper. They were royally screwed. That's right. When God was kind enough to provide, it was usually because he'd need it more then ever. Forcing away the curse that threatened to dance on his lips immediately after the smile, he moved to reamin indifferent, and spoke softly, but loud enough for Trick to hear. "I'm drivin'."