Walking disease vectors? [He scoffs.] Who told you that?

[That sounds like a load of hogwash. Steinbeck reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, already getting tired of hearing Rhys yap on and on about how much he hates him. He sighs.]

I need a drink. [He gives Rhys a pointed glance.] You're coming with me, work or no work. Besides, I bet you don't do that much work at all.