Del ignored most of the kid's rebuttle, taking a bite out of his biscuit and savoring that flavor greedily. Hot damn, it was good. Throwing his feet up onto the table in front of him, he was about to down the rest of that damn sweet piece of bread when the elevator came up again. This time it was carrying a pair. The first was another man, wastelander, he thought, merc or a courier. He looked about as unhappy as could be with the crowd in front of him, and really, Del couldn't blame him. The second was a woman, young and blonde. Unexpected, but he wasn't going to argue with having a pretty blonde on board with this job. The Tribal took a seat next to him, and he was glad for the company. He liked having sturdy and trustworthy sorts around.

"Gonna grab as many'a dese biscuits as I can fo' we leave. Sick'a molerat jerky. Git some beer too. Might's well take wha' ya c'n get while de boss be away."