[Hank considers tossing the question back at her: “you do much ass touching lately?” But he doesn’t, preferring to roll along with their game.]

Oh, you’re a hero all right.

[He pushes back his chair, staring at her ass as he stands. It feels perverted, because it is, but it’s part of the game. Not like anyone would expect him to slap someone’s ass without looking, right?

He really hasn’t touched a girl’s ass in half a decade, though. Feels weird to be indulging with a stranger in public, but hell — when in Rome. Smack asses, apparently.

Hank isn’t really thinking about how hard he’ll do it till he’s standing beside her, hand pulled back. Trying not to ponder her age — don’t make this any weirder than it’s gotta be, Hank thinks — and then he’s finally releasing his hand. Letting it smack against her. Enough to make his palm sting a bit, and it’s not part of the whole “slap ass” part, but his hand lingers. Gives her a little squeeze.

God, he is a pervert.]

Thanks. [A mumble as he shuffles back to his chair.] For fixing my “sorry excuse for a life.” Think that did the trick.

[“Scruffy...?” The nickname is oddly endearing.]