"Dunno," Sparkle grumbled, clinging to the side of the dumpster, amusing himself with the way the blood on his fingers froze to the cold metal of the bin. "Covered in blood an' some of it's mine and they were gonna kill me in there and my whiskey's still in the bar and some guy's gonna croak and like one of these things I can maybe to something about probably."

He wasn't going back for his whiskey, Atton.