"The manager rolls his eyes. "Sorry, miss, already picked my dozen--" "So make it a baker's dozen," someone yells from the back. "Bet she can't hit the bloody nail anyway. Give us somethin' to laugh at." That voice is clearly Kiernan's, and most of the men chuckle. - Kiernan comes back about ten minutes later and takes his seat. "Good work." I snort. "Don't give me that. I heard you back there." "Just seeding the crowd. A time-honored practice among showmen and politicians alike."