[The shot glass in Reno's hand hits the sticky bar top with a soft clink, amber liquid still full to the brim and apparently forgotten for the moment. He swivels on his chair to face Rude fully now, eyes narrowing in what might have been a shrewd look on anyone else. On Reno it just looks... Well. Reno.]

...ooookay. Now's about the time to fill your boy in on what the hell's up with you, pard. [Without a thought, the shot he'd just abandoned is shoved in Rude's direction.]

'Cause the way you're talkin's makin' me think you got a damn good reason wantin' to make yourself scarce. What don't I know?