**Kincaid frowned as she walked into Slightly's place. God, the little weasel. Even looking at him flop sweat his way through the trials and tribulations of counting gold or eating toast made the Witness feel like taking a thousand baths. Still, if he was nervous about something it was almost impossible it was anything of note, and in that case this was easy work.**
Kincaid - "So what seems to be the problem."