"Ah! Damnit that's gross!" Thatch snapped, batting away Marco's hand and trying to rub the spit away. Guh. Who the hell taught Ace that trick? He'd kick their asses twice over. He glowered at Marco as the first mate knuckled his head. He knew Marco knew what it was. He knew it. Why did Thatch have to-- No he wasn't going to. That was just something that wasn't going to happen. He fucking refused to believe any of it and that was just the way it was going to be.

"Don't you have a wife to get home to?" He was going to shut this bastard down one way or another. Even if-- Even if things got a little regrettable-- It was better then-- better than anything else.