"[b]Boo, motherf*cker.[/b]" [i]Came a hearty voice from behind Sawyer, having followed the creak of an opening door, and the step of an individual with purpose. The voice was loud in his ear, cutting through the man's internal dialogue. From the sound of the voice's pitch, it was an average sized man, it's dialect and tone hinting at a life on the streets. The speaker, though, was craftier than appeared, having known how to throw his voice specifically to Sawyer. The other patrons turned to look, but pivoted back with a grunt.[/i] "[b]Yo...Sawyer, right? That is you, right? Ain't another f*ckin' doppelgänger?[/b]"