"Jesus, I'm fine," he said through the food in his mouth. And he was, mostly. He ought to have bought some respirators for both of them, but he was reasonably sure one paint can worth of VOMs wasn't about to give him congestive heart failure, surgery or not.

"I'm starting over here, with the main walls. I already have everything frog taped off, so you hit the edges and corners with the angular brush. Please don't paint my floorboards. And you're right. You would absolutely be dead. But that's not all your fault, and there's a reason I ... used to work with a team."

He picked the roller up again and let it drain for a second before starting to apply in ling, v-shaped strokes.