“Murphy’s law, Doctor. It’s all just another game.”

He pushes the duffel off the desk and into his chair, oblivious to Chilton’s flush, his powerlessness, the lack of life in his pun. Going about his business, same as the horse swishing his tail across the office.

“Dye pack,” he explains, as Chilton bends. “Guess they’re not sensitive to impacts.

"Why don’t you pull a car around and I’ll meet you down there.”