[color=39b54a]Cecelia, how many times have I told You; Sasquatch isn't real, just a Venusian in a gorilla suit trying to sneak into town unnoticed."[/color] the old man retorts, [color=39b54a]"And even the Zetas haven't snagged anyone since we captured one of their ships at Roswell."[/color] Brenner withdraws his notebook, opening to a seemingly random page and pointing at a note scribbled beside an abandoned storm drain somewhere under Brooklyn [color=39b54a]"Stop dead three days before the so called weather balloon."[/color] he adds, reading off a date [color=39b54a]Right here, July fifth, nineteen forty seven, last verifiable abduction.[/color] He dramatically slams the old journal closed and tucks it away in his coat once more, staring out the side window to the travelers moving around the bus[color=39b54a]"Don't mean to embarrass you, just want to keep you safe."[/color] He sighs, taking a sip from one of the little plastic bottles out of his rather small travel bag [color=39b54a]"Never know when they might start up again."[/color] As he rambles, he sees the young man approach them [color=39b54a]"Depends, have you ever seen something you can't explain, like a tall pale figure in your house at night? Because if you have you're a liar and a bad influence."[/color] the Old Loon replies, downing the remaining contents of the tiny shampoo bottle.