[Johnnie glances toward the door Chrissy takes to go clean herself up, then decides, what the fuck. Now he's inside, there's no point standing by the door like some kind of scared child. He's going to swagger on inside and make himself comfortable, like he owns the place. He can be confident and fucking pissed off.

As he helps himself to a seat at the kitchen table, he also takes stock of the place. It's a decent house, small, furnished plainly, could have some real potential, but he sees the unwashed dishes piled up by the sink, and the occasional scattered bottles and cans. As much as Papa seems to want to pretend he's cleaned up and responsible now, that really doesn't look like it's completely true. Must have a job that pays well enough, must be able to function at that job, and then what, he comes home and drinks every evening until the next day? Fucking pathetic, and nothing new.

Ed sees his eyes wandering, of course, and settles into a chair at the table himself.]

So, are you going to tell me the truth about why you showed up here tonight?

[Johnnie rolls his eyes as he rests an arm on the tabletop.]

I didn't want anything from you. I really didn't fuckin' mean to smack into your house. Fuck, I mean, I just knew you lived around here somewhere but I wasn't even gonna stop by, I was on my way to San Francisco. It was an accident an' that's the fuckin' truth, okay? I didn't even know this was your place until you came out an' fuckin' yelled at us.