Fresh meat and fireworks.
"I hear we're gettin' some fresh meat soon."
"Recruits? Wipe that grin off your face, Reno."
His voice was its usual baritone, faux serious look toward his red-headed comrade, hidden behind dark shades. Their department would be expanding in the coming year. Which meant newbies.
Reno was still smirking behind a glass of Nibel Ale.
"Tcht. You haveta be such a killjoy, Rude? 'M only kiddin'! And--"
"Fine." He stood. "Let's blow some shit up."
Things would be changing. New recruits. New responsibilities.
But, drunk and ambling toward munitions, Reno knew some would stay the same.