Rabbit smirks and angles himself just out of Lindianne's reach - that camera is still safe and sound, and probably going under lock and key once they get back to Spook Country. "Just a heads-up - if we get a callout, and he's still blotto? Mother's probably gonna have you hump the pig."

(That'd be a sight to see.)

"Fugg you," Voodoo slurs, dragging his feet along the floor as he hangs like a dead weight in their grip. "Woulda- would kicked your fuggin' asses if- if you hadn't jumped me-"

"Yeah, well, you'd probably still find a way to trip over your own feet, pal," Rabbit says, grimacing as he pulls him along the hallway, Preacher taking point and ensuring the coast is clear. "Jesus but you're a fat fuck. We need to get you on some Jenny Craig."

The only response is a string of muttered curses from Voodoo as he makes himself even more of a dead weight between the two of them, Rabbit straining with every foot. "C'mon - don't be a bitch about it-"

It takes Preacher helping out to muscle him back to Spook Country and back into his bunk, but once they do, Rabbit leans down to slap a piece of paper onto Voodoo's chest, upon which is typed official-looking legalese.

"Your pardon from King Neptune himself."

As the three of them crowd around his bunk and his glassy eyes move amongst each of them, Rabbit smiles, socking him in the shoulder.

"Happy birthday, you lunkhead."