[ bradbury really wishes terry hadn't asked that. ]

City Hall doesn't even have a terrorist reporting hotline. [ he drops his gaze, stares at his waffles like his gaze might be able to drill a hole in them if he focuses on it long enough. finally, he looks up, lifts that goddamn mug at jenny in salute, and manages a wry smirk. ]

And even if it did hypothetically have one, I'd only be reporting to it if there was, y'know, anything to report. Which there isn't. So.

[ he takes a sip of coffee, decisively, feeling the burn all the way down. he'll never understand teenagers, he thinks, as long as he lives. not their motives, or their reasons for doing -- well, anything. ]

Thanks. For coming.