[i]Did we just become glorified baby-sitters after being kidnapped?[/i] Quackshot thought as he collected the bag apparently meant for him. He was pleased to see his flasks of alcohol and tin of candy and lozenges survived, and the added supplies like basic rations and field medical tools. There were two other items that he had no idea what they did: a metal box with a button on it and a black sphere. [i]The fuck are these? A garage opener and a smoke bomb?[/i] He wanted to show them to Lyra, but feared there may be cameras. Cocking his head about quickly, he spied a few mechanical prying eyes. His flash of anger from earlier shifted back to his usual state of panic.

"Is is Joe-nah? Or YO-nah? Ja-ho-na?" Quackshot squawked impatiently. "Young man, how do we get out of here quickly? The walls have eyes and I would rather our collective goose not be cooked." 

He took a shot from a flask. It was cherry margarita.