"If I might suggest a course of action?" "Not necessary," I called, poking my head back out. "Do you mean to say this concatenation of events--" "Totally planned," I fibbed. "Scaring off any wild animals and such." "As one does," Harry said agreeably. "Like Bear Grylls does," I said. "You bet your ass." "What do you see?" Scarrow asked. "A whole lot of fucking dark, since I'm inside a walled-off tunnel, at night, in a snowstorm, you cross-stroking wankbasket."