"You're going to have to get used to this or you're in the wrong profession," Mike states. His voice is bland but he's looking at the other curiously. Suspiciously.

He's not faking the blood thing, that's true, but Mike trusts Billy. And now that he's pussy-footing around the issue, he's not so sure. Another drag of his cigarette and he goes over, putting it out in the hotel ashtray.

"Like I said, there's a toilet there. We're grunts, Billy. Good grunts, but grunts, and part of that is doing our job and cleaning up other people's messes."

Though it is suspicious, with how high up Mike is. He puts his hands on his hips, surveying the scene. Clicks his tongue and runs a bloodied hand through the stubble on his chin, not realizing he's streaked his face, too.

"Cleaners will get here soon but we need some preliminary work done."