"It's not my fault I sleep better sitting upright with my face smashed on a table," Luis mock-whined, all too pleased to let her mess with his hair. Generally he was pleased to let Trudy do whatever she wanted, since he was well aware she could kill him six times over with minimal effort if she felt like it. Though not to say he was scared of her-- she was smoking hot and a lot of fun, after all.

"I guess it is a miracle I've survived this long," he went on, with an odd smile. "Well, sort of."