Johnny hums sucking on his weed stick. The fragant scent wafting up into the air above him, he made sure not to give Ashy a snootful though. When she verfied his curiousity he grinned brightly, "Ashy! My girl!" He reaches up stealing a fist bump off her, "You girl are the best. Helping lil' ol' Johnny out." He sniffed and let out a cloud of weed smoke, "I got this then. SecuRanks Blue, Silver and Copper. Yeah man I can have my drones paint the Buffalo Combat Wagon up perfect. More then enough room for anyone who wants to hop along. He tapped out the weed stick on the ratty arm chair arm rest then slots it away for later.

He takes a moment to look around at the rest of the group. Fuck it feel like forever now. The Dead Presidents. Damn what a bunch, Ash, Kurt, Kevin, and Alex too. Damn it'd be a thing to leave this all behind. But they called it, this is the time to get out. No crew no matter how good they are, can stay ahead of the tide. They could likely go on for another couple of years maybe atleast eight more. But they'd all start to slow down. Even him, it's getting harder and harder to pull back out of his drones and cars. Easier and easier to do his day to day errands as one of his drones. There's terms for it. Everything from nasty stuff like, "Jack Sickness" to just plain losing the fight to return to the meat body. He shook his head, one of his little drones reaching up to place a metal leg on his cheek worriedly.

He shook himself out of his reverie, "Fuck me..." He mutters, then looks over to Kurt, "Guys got a point. We gonna leave this last one with a bang right? Do it like that, and no one will forget the Dead Presidents."