"Shrieking shack?" Danny echoes back, scowling and affronted. A bit too loud, he goes on. "Jesus fuckin' Christ, these names. What's next, dinner at the Shaggin' Wagon?"

He snorts, ignoring the shop clerk staring at him, and puts the eraser back where he found it. Danny turns to face Rosy, leaning an elbow on the shelf. "Well, I'm sure we can find something more interesting than the 'Shrieking Shack' here for you." He pauses, almost pouting. "Plenty of nice pens."