Chin in hand, Mistoffelees glanced over at Tugger in the middle of class. His best friend was totally out and he glanced over his shoulder to where Grids was sitting across the way. Grids glanced over, having been paying more attention to her doodling than to the presentation on bugs. She raised a brow at Tugger and then glanced at Misto.

He shrugged, rolling his eyes and turned his attention back to the teacher, used to such displays just as Tugger started drooling.

Grids shook her head, leaning over enough to shake Tugger slightly, "Psst, Tugger. Wake up." He made a short jerking motion and remained asleep. "Tugger, you're drooling," she whispered, glancing toward the teacher.

Jerking awake, Tugger glanced around, sitting up quickly and wiping at his mouth. Mistoffelees gave him a sideways glance of amusement.

The teacher finished his presentation and turned on the lights, making his way along the aisle, "And if you did the homework, you'll know the two ways that ants communicate." He leaned against Tugger and Misto's lab table to look at Grids, "Ms. Summers?"

"...Ways ants communicate." She had really been hoping he wouldn't call on her.

"Yes..."

"With other ants."

"No. With lemons. From the homework, the ants are communicating in two ways, and those are?"

Grids flicked her gaze toward Misto, begging for help.

Mistoffelees' eyes widened for a moment, and he used Tugger as his dummy to mine out the motions for touch, patting his shoulders several times, and trying to look like he was smelling the other.

"Touch...and..." Her brows furrowed in confusion, "B.O?" That earned a round of laughter from the class and Grids flinched. Apparently not.

"That would be 'touch' and 'smell', Miss Summers. Is there anything else Mr. Rosenberg would like to tell you?"

"No," Mistoffelees said, shrinking down slightly.

"Good." The bell rang and he looked up, "Chapters six through eight by Wednesday, people." He glanced at Grids as she rose, "Could I see you for a moment?"

Her two friends shot her concerned glances before leaving the class room, Blayne coming out behind them, calling to his girlfriend. "Isn't she something? Do you know what a woman like that wants?" Tugger tilted his head and Mistoffelees was already not paying attention. "No, I guess you wouldn't," Blayne finished with a smirk, heading out.

"Something cutting!" Tugger called out, before glancing at Mistoffelees, a bit shame faced. "Sometimes I just go with the generic insult."

"Why pay more for the brand name?" Mistoffelees asked with a shrug, paying more attention to the door than to Tugger, fiddling with the hem of the red and white striped shirt.

The teacher made his way back to the front of the room, Grids following him as he started talking, "I gather you had a few problems at your last school."

"Well, what teenager doesn't -"

He looked up, arching an eyebrow as he picked up some books to put away, "Cut school, get in fights, burn down the gymnasium?" He caught her look of confused horror, "Principal Flutie showed me your permanent record."

Her expression turned to indignation, "That fire, there were major extenuating circumstances - actually it's sort of funny -"

"I can't wait to see what you're going to do here."

She sighed, dropping her gaze, "Destructo-Girl, that's me."

"But I suspect it's going to be great," he finished.

"You mean great in a bad way?"

He set his glasses aside, "You've got a first rate mind. You can think on your feet - imagine what you could accomplish if you did . . . ?"

"The homework thing?"

"The homework thing. I understand you probably have a good excuse for not doing it. Amazingly enough, I don't care. I know you can excel in this class and so I expect no less. Is that clear?"

She took a deep breath, nodding, "Okay. Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, be smart. And please don't listen to the Principal or anyone else's negative opinions about you. Let's make 'em eat that permanent record, what do you say?"

She blinked at him for a long moment, "Uh . . . thanks?"

The science teacher shook his head, a bit of a smile on his lips, "Chapters six through eight. Now go on."

She offered him a bit of a smile before slipping out of the classroom to catch up to her friends.

Mistoffelees pushed off from where he was leaning against the wall the moment he saw her. "Hey. How'd it go?"

"I...really well actually. I mean, yeah I got the do the homework spiel, but...I think I might think about bothering."

"Bothering is good," Mistoffelees said, leading the way to their next class. "In fact, I can help with the bothering if you like."

"I...would appreciate that. He," she shook her head, "he actually thinks I can turn that reputation of mine around."

"That's great!" Mistoffelees said, arms going out slightly. "I mean, that's great right? So many teachers don't want to give you the time of day so that's great! Let's go work on that bothering bit!"

Grids laughed, "Yeah, it really is. Would be even better if the principal wasn't giving out my permanent record though..."

"We take what we can get," Mistoffelees said with a grin.

She smiled, "Guess so. So, think we could start that bothering bit after classes today?"

"Sounds good. I'm free whenever."

"The Bronze!" Tugger protested, finally tuning into the conversation.

"Studying," Mistoffelees rejoined.

Grids hesitated, "Maybe study at the Bronze?"

Mistoffelees rolled his eyes. "Study afterschool, then go to the Bronze. We can do both."

"Okay, then we'll do that."

"Good," he said. "Meet at the library after classes then?"

"Do I have to come?" Tugger asked. Mistoffelees just rolled his eyes.

"I'll be there." She glanced at Tugger, "If we're both there, where else would you go?"

"...I hate you and your logic. Logic that ends with me at the library with homework."

"I'm sure you'll find a way to survive," Mistoffelees told him in all seriousness.

o.o.o.o

Bombalurina approached the table where Grids and Misto were seated at the Bronze that night, "Here lies a problem. What used to be my table occupied by pitiful losers. Of course we'll have to burn it."

Grids looked up from her conversation, offering a thin smile, "Sad, you have so many memories here. You and Lawrence, you and Mark, you and John. You spent the better part of your "J" through "M" here."

Bomba stared at her scathingly for a moment before moving on.

Mistoffelees glanced over at her at that. "Well, I'm not sure many could have survived witnessing such a battle of the bitches, but I think I've managed to escape unscathed."

Grids bit her lip, "Well, you know they say fight fire with fire…and it worked."

"Oh it worked beautifully," he said with a grin. "If only more people were inclined to stand up to her, but I think we'll manage with what we have."

"She's really just a blow-hard. All bark, and little bite...or little bite outside school."

"Sounds about right. But come on, we're at the age that school's all that matters to us," he said with a shrug. "Speaking of which, you sure you're good on that assignment?"

She considered and then nodded, "I think as good as I'm going to get tonight..."

"Alright, good," he said with a nod and glanced out over the dance floor. "We lost Tugger somewhere though."

She frowned slightly as she scanned the place, nodding toward where she thought she saw him, "There he is."

"Let's go save him from whatever fate he's gotten himself involved in then," Mistoffelees said, rising from where he was seated.

Tugger meanwhile, had encountered Blayne again, who was in the midst of talking about yet another girl. "Girl's gotta have something to go with me," he was saying smugly as Tugger walked up.

"Something as in a lobotomy?" he joked and Blayne and his friends all turned to stare at him.

"Tugger," Blayne said smoothly. "How many times've you scored then?"

"Well, I," Tugger started.

"It was just a question."

"We talking today or the whole week?" Tugger asked, puffing his chest out slightly and hooking his hands in his jean's pocket. "Uh, look, duty calls," he said, noticing Mistoffelees and Griddlebone making their way over. He met them, slinging an arm over Grid's shoulder and considering whether to do the same with Misto or not.

Grids eyed him oddly, "What are you doing?"

"Work with me babe," he replied. "Blayne there had the nerve to question my manliness and I want to give him a visual."

"'Babe'?" Her brow rose higher and she shook her head. She looked away, "I don't believe it..."

"I know, after all my conquests," Tugger said, not realizing she wasn't talking to him at all anymore, but Mistoffelees followed her gaze.

Grids slipped absently out from under Tugger's arm, weaving her way through the crowd to the figure in the shadows by the doorway.

Mac offered her a smile as she approached and Tugger stared after her in horror. "Who's that?"

"That must be Mac, I think," Mistoffelees replied, blinking at the sight of the other.

"That weird guy? That warned her about the vampires?"

"That's him, I'll bet you," Mistoffelees replied.

"Well, he's buff. She never said anything about him being buff."

"I think the apocalypse got in the way of that information," Mistoffelees said dryly before glancing up at Tugger. "Who think he's buff?"

"He's a very attractive man!" Tugger said, almost angry as he swept his arm out toward where Mac and Grids were standing. "How come that never came up?"

Grids looked the auburn-haired man over, her expression one of distrust, though her tone remained neutral, "Well, look who's here."

"Hi," Mac said softly.

She considered how to answer him before shaking her head, "Wish I could say it's nice to see you, but we both know I'd be lying at that point."

"I won't stay long then," Mac said softly, though some enjoyment seemed to disappear from his face.

Grids sighed, "No, you'll just give me a cryptic warning about some exciting new catastrophe and then disappear into the night. Right?"

"You're cold," Mac said, grinning though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I'm sure you can take it."

"I mean you look cold," Mac replied, shrugging out of his leather jacket and swinging it around her shoulders.

Still in the bronze, Tugger gaped. "Oh right, give her your jacket. It's a balmy night, nobody needs to be trading clothes out there!"

Mistoffelees glanced at his friend, an eyebrow raised. "I don't think she even likes him, Tug, there's no need to get protective or jealous."

"I'm not jealous!"

Grids drew the coat a bit closer around her, "It's...a bit big on me..." She paused as her eyes fell on a recent wound on Mac's arm. She reached out, but stopped just before touching him, her tone laced with concern, "What happened?"

He shrugged. "I wasn't paying attention."

"To someone with a big fork?"

"He's coming," Mac said, playing up the cryptic angle for all it was worth.

"The fork guy?" She looked at him skeptically.

"Just don't let him corner you. He'll rip your throat out."

Her eyes widened, but she managed to respond, "Okay, I give you improved marks. Ripping the throat out: non-cryptic, it's a strong visual . . ."

For a moment he almost smiled. "I should go."

"I..." She hesitated before nodding, "Alright."

"Good luck," he said softly, slipping away into the night and leaving his jacket behind.

Grids pulled the coat closer around her, watching him go, "Sweet dreams..."

Still in the club, Tugger was glaring at where the pair had been standing as Mistoffelees sipped at the Italian soda he'd gotten in the meantime, sick of standing next to Tugger as he glowered. Grids finally returned to her friends, glancing between them, but not saying anything.

"How was cryptic guy?" Mistoffelees asked, still sipping serenely at his drink.

"Less cryptic than usual, but still cryptic."

"Anything useful? Other than suddenly getting a new coat?" Mistoffelees asked and Tugger just glared more.

"There's a new thing to watch out for. Some 'fork guy' he wouldn't say what it actually was."

Mistoffelees arched a brow and Tugger finally spoke. "Well, what's the point of having him around then?"

She glanced at Tugger in confusion, "What?"

"If he can't speak clearly, he should be shunned."

She blinked, "Is something wrong? Sure he's vague, but he's also helped."

"How is vague helpful?" Tugger demanded and Mistoffelees just shook his head.

"Ignore your knight in plain clothes over here. He's just freaking out that he a) didn't think of the coat thing first and b) that he doesn't have a leather coat like that to give you."

Tugger gave Mistoffelees a dark look. "You are a traitor and should also be shunned." Mistoffelees just shrugged and went back to sipping the Italian soda.

"There's an awful lot of shunning going on around here..." Grids remarked, before shrugging, "I don't know, his cautions are usually pretty direct if nothing else."

"It's not my fault I'm surrounded by shunees," Tugger said, crossing his arms over his chest and Mistoffelees shook his head slightly.

"...Right. Well, I think I'm going to call it a night."

"Probably a good plan," Mistoffelees said, finished the soda and going to put the glass away before returning quickly. "So, who's walking who home? Tugger?"

Tugger scowled but nodded quickly enough.

"I can see you guys home and then head to my place?" Grids suggested.

"Sounds good," Misto said. "Tugger?"

The larger boy sighed and nodded again. "Sure, sounds great."

"Shall we?" The two boys trailed after her, Mistoffelees chattering on and Tugger continuing to scowl the way home, mostly at the offending leather jacket.

o.o.o.o

The next morning at school, Mistoffelees sat to one side reading a science book as Cori and Grids discussed Mac's warning of the night before.

"That's all he said, "Fork" guy?"

Grids nodded, "That's all. "Cryptic" guy said "Fork" guy."

"I think there's too many guys in your life." Coricopat paused at the look she gave him at that, "I'll see what I can find out." He glanced up at the sky, shading his eyes, "God, every day here is the same."

The teen rolled her eyes, "Bright, sunny, beautiful. How can we escape this torment?"

Mistoffelees couldn't help but laugh at that, though he tried to choke it back. "What, would you prefer dark, dank and dreary?" he asked, voice teasing.

Coricopat glanced at him, arching an eyebrow, "Perhaps a bit more variation, and cooler temperatures."

"Well, if your suits weren't so heavy, it wouldn't be so bad, Cori," Grids pointed out.

"I happen to like my-what did you call me?"

"Cori?"

He blinked, "Why?"

"Because it's shorter, easier to say, and kinda fits you?"

"Cori," Mistoffelees repeated. "It does work. Should we at least call you Mr. Cori?"

The librarian blinked, "Well, considering the familiarity of shortening my name, the form of address seems superfluous."

Mistoffelees grinned. "Probably. But I was just wondering if it would make you feel better."

He shrugged, "Might as well drop that as well, unless you feel so inclined to keep it."

For a moment Mistoffelees wavered. "Well, I don't know, it depends on if you feel like pretending you still have any authority over us."

"I have already given up any hope of that. Perhaps utilize it in front of the principal though, hm?"

"Who, Flutie? I think he'd approve," Mistoffelees said, grinning.

Coricopat's lips twitched into a bit of a smile, "He might, but then again, the man seems to have no idea what he approves of."

"No kidding," Grids muttered.

As they were talking, Tugger strolled up. "Guess what? I just over heart in the office. No Dr. Gregory today. Ergo those of us who blew off our science homework..." here he paused to snap the book in Mistoffelees' hands shut, getting a small squeak from the other teen. "...Are not as dumb as we look."

Grids looked at him as Coricopat quietly excused himself to return to the recesses of his library, "What happened, is he sick?"

"I think the word they used was missing," Tugger said as Mistoffelees couldn't decide whether to scowl at him for the book or watch Coricopat leave.

"M-missing?" Grids looked at Tugger, silently praying he was wrong.

"This is bad?" Tugger asked, looking at Mistoffelees who nodded.

"If something's wrong, yeah," Great, her one ally besides Cori among the staff of the school was missing.

"He's one of the only teachers who doesn't think Grids is a felon, remember?" Mistoffelees added.

"Right, Tugger said. "I'm really sorry, I'm sure he'll..." he stopped as his head turned. "Iya-hoo."

Grids blinked at him in confusion and then followed his gaze to where a beautiful woman, probably in her late twenties, was proceeding past them. The woman stopped and looked at Tugger, "Could you help me?"

"Egguh," he managed before recovering speech. "Yes."

Mistoffelees glanced up from where he'd reopened the science book and blinked at the appearance of the woman. He was possibly the only boy on campus whose eyes weren't glued to her.

She glanced toward Misto offering him a smile, before turning her gaze to Tugger again, "I'm looking for Science one oh nine."

"Sure!" he started. "It's, uh... I go there everyday," he tried to explain before turning quickly to Mistoffelees. "Oh god where is it?" he asked them, a bit desperately.

Meanwhile, Blayne slid up. "Hi, I'm Blanye Mall. I'm going there right now. It's not far from the varsity field where I took all city last year."

The woman offered him a smile, "Thank you, Blayne." She turned a dazzling smile on Tugger, but headed off with Blayne instead.

Tugger gaped after her before turning back to the pair still sitting. "Funny how the earth never opens up and swallows you when you want it to, huh?"

"The earth has a sense of humor that way," Mistoffelees said, carefully marking the page in the book before closing it.

"Could have been worse," Grids supplied.

"How?" Tugger asked and Mistoffelees glanced at Grids, as if hoping she would come up with something so he could keep his mouth shut.

"You could never see her again. We've got to be there for our next class, remember?"

"That's terrible!" he declared. "Now I have to look at her knowing I failed!"

"It's better than being mauled to death by fork guy," Mistoffelees said, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"You think he'd maul me if I asked really nicely?"

"I think I'd rather not have to deal with the aftermath of that mauling," Grids replied. "Look on the bright side, you get a chance to redeem yourself here."

Tugger perked at that and Mistoffelees just rolled his eyes. "I like redemption."

"Well, redemption means we get to class on time. Come on."

Tugger trailed after her, reassured by the idea, Mistoffelees bringing up the rear and shaking his head slightly.

They entered the classroom as the woman wrote her name up on the board in an elegant script. Grids paused on her way to her desk and turned back to pick up Dr. Gregory's broken glasses. She frowned, running her fingers over the frames.

Mistoffelees glanced over her shoulder. "That doesn't look good," he murmured as Tugger went to his seat, trying to look attentive.

The young woman shook her head, "If he'd dropped his glasses, wouldn't he have picked them up again?" She set them on the display table and moved over to her seat.

The woman turned from the board, "My name is Natalie French, I'll be substituting for Dr. Gregory."

Grids raised her hand, "Do you know when he's coming back?"

"No I don't . . ." She glanced over the seating chart, "Griddlebone. They just call and tell me where they want me."

"I'll tell you where I want you," Blayne said from where he was sitting, chin in hand staring dreamily at her.

She arched an eyebrow, looking at him, "What was that, Blayne?"

He shook his head. "I mean, are you going to pick up where Dr. Gregory left off?"

"Yes, his notes tell me you were right in the middle of insect life." She picked up a display case with a praying mantis inside, "The praying mantis is a fascinating creature, forced to live alone. Who can tell me why - Griddlebone?"

The blond looked at the bug for a moment, shrugging, "Well, the words "bug ugly" kinda spring to mind."

Miss French pursed her lips, her eyes going cold, "There's nothing ugly about these unique creatures. The reason they live alone is because they're cannibals. It's hardly their fault - it's the way Nature designed them: noble, solitary and prolific: over eighteen hundred species worldwide. In nearly all of them the female is larger and more aggressive than the male."

Grids' brow arched and she glanced over at Misto and Tugger at the adjoining lab table. Tugger's gaze was fixed on the teacher but Mistoffelees arched a brow toward Grids, shaking his head slightly.

Miss French continued with her lecture, picking up a textbook, "The California Mantis lays her eggs and then finds a mate," she paused as she walked past Tugger, offering him a warm smile, "to fertilize them. Once he's played his part, she covers the eggs in a protective sack and attaches them to a leaf or a twig, out of danger."

Mistoffelees winced slightly at that description, but most of the class remained glued to her words.

She made her way back to the front of the class as she finished her lecture, "If she's done her job correctly, in a few months she'll have several hundred offspring." She glanced toward an announcement for the science fair, "We should make some model egg sacks for the Science Fair. Who'd like to help me do that after school? I warn you, it's a delicate art, I'd have to work with you very closely, one on one . . ."

The majority of the men in the class raised their hands and the girls looked at them strangely.

Miss French smiled at that as the bell rang, "Come sign up for times to meet with me then if you are interested."

Shaking his head, Mistoffelees slung his bag over his shoulder, and headed for the cafeteria. Grids picked up her bookbag, shouldering her way through the classroom to catch up to Misto.

He glanced back and paused when Tugger wasn't there. "Tell me he isn't actually signing up."

She stopped, looking toward the classroom, "I won't then, but it sure looks like it..."

Mistoffelees rolled his eyes and shook his head slightly. "What is it with the male population suddenly?"

"Part of the male population, you mean," Grids responded, glancing at him. "As to what's wrong? I never know with guys."

He considered for a moment and then grinned. "Alright, yes, most of the male population. And I would love to say I understood my own gender too, but no dice."

Finally Tugger came out of the room, grinning. "So, me amigos, lunch?"

Grids nodded slightly, "Onwards to lunch."

"Hot dog surprise today," Mistoffelees said.

"Ugh, be still my heart..." Grids said, shaking her head.

Mistoffelees grinned, reaching the cafeteria. "Call me old fashioned, but I don't want any more surprises in my hot dog."

Grids picked up a tray, shaking her head, "How can you possibly resist it?"

"I wonder what she sees in me," Tugger said, off in his own world as they dished up their food. "Probably just the quiet good looks couple with a certain smoky magnetism."

Mistoffelees gave him a disbelieving look as if he couldn't decide whether he was more disgusted with the hot dogs or Tugger. Grids glanced at him, confusion briefly lighting her features, but it was gone quickly.

"Miss French. You two might be a little young to understand what an older woman sees in a younger man."

"Oh, no. I understand," she replied, grimacing as the lunch lady placed a serving on her plate.

"Oh good," Tugger said.

"After all, a younger man is too dumb to wonder why an older woman can't find someone her own age and too desperate to care about the surgical improvements." Alright, that was catty. She didn't care, though, it was true...mostly.

"I'm not too dumb to... what surgical improvements?" Tugger asked, in surprise.

"Well, he is young," Mistoffelees said, snarkily out of the corner of his mouth, grinning at Grids, somewhat at Tugger's expense.

Griddlebone's lips quirked up in a bit of a smile, "And so terribly innocent."

Tugger glared at both of them. "Those who can, do. Those who can't laugh at those who . . . can do." He said as Blayne went past him, tray piled with food.

"Gotta carb up for my one on one with Miss French today. When's yours? Oh right, tomorrow. You came in second and I came in first. I guess that's what they call natural selection."

"I guess that's what they call rehearsal," Tugger shot after him.

Bombalurina pushed past them all, "Excuse you." She headed behind the food line, flashing a prescription at one of the workers, "medically prescribed lunch, my doctor ships it daily, I'll only be here as long as I can hold my breath . . ." She pulled the door of the fridge open and the headless body of Dr. Gregory fell out practically on top of her.

Grids moved quickly, ducking in to look down at the corpse and confirm. She stumbled back. Damn this school. Damn this town. Damn it all.

Mistoffelees had followed her, stopping short when she did, putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing lightly. "Oh god," he said softly.

She took a shaky breath, "W-we should go let Cori know..."

Mistoffelees paused for a moment, before remembering the new name they'd dubbed the librarian with that morning. He nodded. "Let's do that," he said, gently holding her arm and guiding her that way.

Coricopat looked up as they entered the library, "What on earth...?"

"Dr. Gregory was found dead," Mistoffelees said softly, seating Grids down in the chair.

Grids sank down into the seat as the librarian disappeared into his office for a moment, emerging with a glass and pitcher of water. "Where? How?" He poured a glass, setting it down for Grids, "Drink this."

"No, thank you," She picked it up absently, staring at the water for a long moment before taking a sip.

"I just... who would want to hurt Dr. Gregory?" Mistoffelees asked, Tugger having trailed in silently behind them.

"I mean, I've seen... that was new."

"He had no enemies on the staff that I know of. He was a civilized man." Cori shook his head, "I liked him."

Grids swallowed, murmuring, "So did I..."

"We're going to find who did this," Mistoffelees said, finally sitting down hard, having been too focused on Grids to really panic himself.

Grids nodded, "Count on it."

Cori glanced between the three teens, "What do we know?"

"Not a lot." The young woman drew a deep breath, rising, "He was killed on campus I'm guessing. The same day we last saw him."

"How do you know?"

"He didn't change his clothes," she answered.

"This is probably a question no one wants to hear," Tugger said. "But where did they put his head?"

Mistoffelees balked, looking sick. "You're right, I didn't want to hear that."

Grids glanced at Misto, "Mac. He warned me something was coming."

Cori nodded, "Yes. Yes he did and I wish I knew what he meant." He rested a hand on Misto's shoulder for a moment as he passed him to pick up a book from the table, "All I could locate was an oblique reference to a vampire who displeased the Master and cut off his hand for penance."

The slayer looked at him with an arched eyebrow, "Cut off his hand and replaced it with a fork?"

"Wow," Mistoffelees said shakily, eyes following Cori. "I've heard of eating disorders but..."

"I don't actually know what he replaced it with," the Englishman sighed, closing the book again and looking at the students.

"Why would that guy come after a teacher?" Tugger asked.

"I'm...I'm not certain he did. There was an incident two nights ago with a homeless man in Weatherly Park. He was practically shredded. But nothing like Dr. Gregory."

"Fork guy doesn't do heads," Grids guessed. Coricopat shook his head in answer. She sighed, "And Dr. Gregory's blood wasn't drained."

"So there's something else that's out there?" Mistoffelees asked. "Besides silverware man?"

"This is fun," Tugger remarked. "We're on Monster Island."

The librarian glanced from one to the other, "We don't know it's something else. This fellow is still our likeliest suspect."

Grids considered for a long moment, "Where was that guy killed? Weatherly Park?"

"Griddlebone...I know you're upset. But this is not the time to go hunting. Not until we know more. Promise me you won't do anything rash."

Grids met Coricopat's eyes, "Cross my heart."

And moving right along here, Mac's leather coat appears. Assume when he shows up, he'll probably be wearing some leather coat or another.