вставать мне в восемь
и что я делаю?
A sudden tapping noise breaks the quiet. A second later, Reaper realizes it's coming from his own mask. Or rather, from Jack knocking on it with a cracker.
"What the hell are you doing?" he asks. Jack waves the treat in his face. "I don't eat that." He adjusts his grip on the man, then frees a hand to pull the hood lower over Jack's face.
"So what do you eat?"
"A healthy diet of human life," he replies. "Does wonders for the figure."
"Sure does," Jack murmurs. A beat. Hey now.
"Eat your damm cracker," Reaper growls. Jack shakes his head. "Morrison, I swear to God—"
"Can't," Jack explains. Reaper stops in his tracks to look at him. Right. Still wearing the mask.
That was dumb.
"Later, then," he concedes. Jack starts to fumble with the faceplate anyway. "I said later, Jackie," Reaper sighs.
правильно
я горю