“Hey.” The words sound a little mangled through the plastic of his helmet, but he still nods in response, and Matt continues, sounding like he’s having the time of his life. “You wanna know what I did this morning?”

The gunning of two motors fills the air, and Mello has to raise his voice. “What?”

Matt yells back with a hoarse bark of laughter, “I wrote ‘Fuck you bastards’ on my chest with Magic Marker. If I’m going to die, I wanna at least give my coroner a piece of my mind.”