"'zat so? Christ, wish I'd met you ten years ago then," John said wryly, tossing back what was left of his drink and allowing Pestilence to refill his glass. "That mean I don't have to worry about this stuff pickling my liver? Or would that be more your protege's department?" He knew who he was dealing with now, and even without the Horseman's reassurance, he wouldn't have been too worried. He'd pulled one memorable end run around the old boy already.
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