Masters.

“Do you like whiskey?”

Still smiling, still shaking Masters’ hand. “Would you-“ he looked at their hands, embarrassed as he finally let go. A small sheepish laugh — almost a snort — escaped as he shoved his hands in his pockets. “Would you like to go for a drink sometime?”

“Nice to meet you.” He smiles, not realizing how long he’d been shaking Masters’ hand.

“Sebastian.” He offers his hand.

//Masters:

“Their names are Francis and Gerard.”

Gives a little wave and a smile.

Peaks out to see that it’s safe and gingerly returns, placing another potato at Masters’ feet.

.....Bends down and rolls the potato over to Masters and then BOOKS IT.

Yes. Stares. Slowly pulls a potato out of his pocket.

Screams and drops his beer.

Sit down, John, you fAT MOTHERFUCKER