Dirge swallows hard- wow, that corrugated steel does /not/ go down smooth sometimes- and looks up to see who's making comments on his meal. Oh, it was the mech with the headlights- he'd seen him often enough on the network.
"It is, isn't it? I suppose you're here to tell me to stop whatever I'm doing?" the jet snorts.
no subject
"It is, isn't it? I suppose you're here to tell me to stop whatever I'm doing?" the jet snorts.