[The sight of the clearly weapon-like cross elicits a loud gasp from Grift, and he leans forward, eyes shining. Grift loves many things in life. Easy women. Liquor. Hats. Material pleasures. Good food.
One of these things are large guns. Small guns, too. Anything that booms and causes dreadful harm, he finds fascinating. For the instance, his elaborate speech and carefully composed face drops in amazement.]
Oh, you've got to be... you're... this--oh! You blasphemous devil, you.
[He contemplates it for a moment more, a faint smile on his face.]
QUICKLOG
One of these things are large guns. Small guns, too. Anything that booms and causes dreadful harm, he finds fascinating. For the instance, his elaborate speech and carefully composed face drops in amazement.]
Oh, you've got to be... you're... this--oh! You blasphemous devil, you.
[He contemplates it for a moment more, a faint smile on his face.]
...Can I touch it?