'[...] The sort of guy who comes to your party and you get him drunk enough to pass out by nine and put him in the Rescue Rangers minibus and strip off everything but his shoes and socks and leave him propped up on a bus stop bench in East St. Louis and he'll not only survive somehow but the next night he'll be back at the Jaegerschnitzel punching you in the shoulder and saying Good One like you'd just given him a hotfoot, desperate to be one of the guys.'