Jimmy can't decide if he's in a good mood, or furious. He's been feeling that way a lot lately, and remarkably, half a bottle of cheap whiskey doesn't seem to help matters. He'd gotten lost twice on the way over, even though he'd been there a hundred times, and when some asshole had made a comment about his stumbling drunkenness, he'd grabbed the guy by the lapels and thrown him against a garbage can so hard he was pretty sure the guy's ears would be ringing with the impact for days to come.

When he finally arrives, he's late, and he knows he's probably left Richard waiting. Hell, he can't even quite remember why he'd shown up in the first place, but he spots Richard across the room easily enough, and walks up behind him, still swaying slightly.

"Hey."