[De Carabas has never been a fan of Vonnegut. He considers it to be a pedestrian attempt at absurdity. So when he looks up and sees this young man with his face that's used to smirking at all times and his book, or his shield, or whatever it is, he's unimpressed. Then again, that's his default state.]
[He takes the time to wave his hand over the ink, allowing it to dry, for thirty or more seconds; then he glances up.]
[ Spam ]
[He takes the time to wave his hand over the ink, allowing it to dry, for thirty or more seconds; then he glances up.]
Can I help you?