"My-?" For a moment Giggles looked puzzled, then he sprayed tea over a disassembled rifle. The laughter slumped him over a counter, where he stayed for a while. "[i]My ship![/i] Dude! Fffff-" He collapsed again. "Dude, I got here in a wetsuit and a crate of live carp. Turns out my body's about as dense as a one-to-one mix of river and fish. Customs didn't notice a damn thing. Oh geez my sides." Giggles's laughter wasn't giggly, it had to be said. Mostly fading wheezes and cackles.

Eventually he picked himself up. "My ship," he repeated, shaking out the last of it. "Yeah, just got back, like I said." Giggles sobered up quickly. His exploits over the last few months weren't something he was keen to make into conversation. "I'll help myself to that, thanks. Another thing I'll help myself to is this von Goethe fully automatic."

Giggles laid out the compact submachine gun, checking its empty magazine and grip. There it was engraved on the side, the four word von Goethe trademark: [i]'Man Muß Auch Tun'[/i].

[i]It is not enough to want, saith the poet,[/i] echoed Giggles in his head. [i]One must also do.[/i]

"Yeah. Again, I can't pay you." And I don't want to mug you, ran the rest of the words unspoken. Definitely not in a gun shop. "But I'm good at getting people places. Carp box and all. If you have plans for..." Giggles shrugged awkwardly at the failing store. "I can help set you up."