The prospect was not-so-subtly studying Rodd or Todd or whatever-the-fuck-his-name-was across the bar. He rubbed his chin. “I think he seems…well, like a pussy–”               “Yes!” Mercy slapped the table. “Thank you. It’s like I’ve been trying to tell them.”               Walsh shook his head with a delicate look of disgust. “No, you haven’t.”               “He’s a total puss,” Mercy continued. “But…shifty, too. Like, a shifty pussy.”               RJ made a choking sound.