..The subtle clicking of the typewriter filled the room, alone with the subtle hiss of ventilation as Jack’s eyes narrowed. He was stuck in a rut due to his ongoing writer’s block, and definitely didn’t need anyone bothering him right now. Oh, how he could go for a drink..he wants to. Very much so. But he can’t. He promised. With a sigh, he stood and paced around the room, looking to sprout any ideas. Any.