Kavinsky barked a laugh, sharp and mean, because, for one, if that was this guy's version of blunt he was still being a bit oblique. In any case, it had been a long time since Kavinsky had been called a whore--well. Not that long, but long enough. Normally it was faggot or pansy or something else, and if he was feeling generous, he sneered it off and rolled his eyes.

If he was feeling less generous, there was a gun and a crowbar in his car. Eat or be eaten. Kavinsky refused to wind up a statistic on some back road.

"Ooh, we found a soft spot." He winked, and then, as he passed one of the tables. He picked up a cruel looking knife and tucked it between his belt and his jeans. "Besides, it's only whoring if you pay me, man."