A grizzled man in his late thirties swaggers into the diner, wearing a scuffed denim jacket and muddied boots. He's Lex Becker, the local survivalist type, and he looks like he'd rather be in bed. Or intoxicated.
[Raph lifts it's head, and turns it's ear to him. It seems to be able to recognize the man by footsteps alone.]
What'll it be, Becker?










