Oh. O-oh no. He's blown his chance at celebration. Harrow's stony facade cracks in an instant and a deep frown begins to form. He takes another sip of his beer mid-mourning and then continues letting that frown grow.

He sighs through his nostrils and crosses his arms over his chest. "Aw Hell, Jim. I can't hate you forever."

A few seconds pass before he elbows Jim and asks, "What're you supposed to be? You look like you're from my world."