‘"I’m listening. Porky. You’re the one not listening. I keep telling you that you'll do line." With his gold-hazel eyes fixed firmly on the frayed rubber cushions between the service elevator’s double doors, Will forced his shoulders down, forced himself to relax. He avoided looking at the hugely fat man beside him, put off less by his inhuman bulk than the short, spiked mohawk and the rivers of sweat the man produced even when standing still. The fat man continued whimpering.