Mom’s in full Crawford Mode now.

Helpfully wordy police detective, too. Bet he always talks up the Postum. Can’t shut up about it. No one else drinks it. They say it tastes like muddy oats, or something. As the watch commander put it: Christ, Harrigan, this dogpiss is for pussies! And the detective just bit his tongue. Fine. See how big you feel when the invisible man with the jetpack starts flying over your house.