A look of resigned approval was all Hancock could give, his lower lip shoving his upper lip. “Now that’s pretty impressive. Sorry to say I can’t do anything half as flashy as that.” Hancock bent down to reach for his duffle bag that was in the shadow of the ledge of the roof. He hesitated as he looked at Angie, he half expected her to be some kind of alien.

"Avatar. I don’t even know if that’s the best way to put it. But yeah, let's go with that. Nah, I don’t know any guys with a name like that. Name’s Hancock. Doesn’t sound very godly, does it?" He put the strap to the bag on his shoulder, the sounds of glass clinking together was muffled but audible. “So what’s your deal? Why do you do whatever it is you do?”