[ he can go skirt-chasing once his stomach is full of pizza and he's gotten a shower. Chances are, if he chased the pretty waitress now, she'd realise he smells like demon blood and whatever other kind of bodily fluid they may have vomited up on the man within the last few weeks. ]

People and their bikes, man. I got a buddy back home who's attached to this old beater that barely runs properly, so I get it. [ he's going to likewise tear through his pizza--and as they talk, the pepperoni one will also arrive. ]

I'd appreciate the support, honestly? People here with their crazy powers and magic and all--honestly, all I've really got going for me is my gunmanship. Not to say I'm a slouch at that, though.

But a gun can only get you so far. They don't work on ghosts. And there's ghosts here. [ sigh. ]