"Shut the fuck up, you man-gina," he hisses at Sam. "The adults are talking."

Greene reaches out and a chipmunk scampers up to him with a martini in its little paws. Without looking at it, his hand closes around the stem of the glass and he takes a sip. The chipmunk returns to its cheek stuffing duties.

"You're not being fair, Rowe," he says, and begins to tap the olive skewer against the rim of the glass. "Haven't you considered my feelings?"

He eats an olive.