Teresa stares dumbfounded for a few seconds... then doubles over laughing. "You honestly think... You honestly think that it's some invincible killing machine. Can I quote you on the sales pitch?" She pauses to take a breath. "Also, it has never left Concordia's premises and we keep it locked up by feeding a few, I mean ah, we... I think I've said enough."
Willow speaks up. "Unprofessional attitude? Have you seen just who's on our payroll? We don't exactly hire for good people skills. We hire for results. Also, about that morality thing you can't turn off, it's saddening. If you could, we may have offered you a job."
And then Elroy's just taking it all in. Why get upset when one has not one, but two violent women more than willing to get upset on one's behalf? Anything he says would probably be drowned out anyway. Dude just slides the briefcase over. The most readily available contents of the open briefcase are surprisingly specific details of beverage orders. Apparently The League imports whiskey by the barrel, sends fifty million a month to something only labeled "Bustard Fund", and is currently having something labeled "Predator Satiation Units" delivered in 50-packs to Concordia weekly.
