It isn’t hard to find Jimmy when on the Tulpar. All you have to do is follow that incorrigible man-smell and listen for the faint, gruff murmur of him talking to himself when he thinks he’s alone.

When you do find him, he’s scowling at the vending machine, waiting for a bag of chips to be readily dispensed.

Anticipating your footsteps, Jimmy turns, his scowl unrelenting as he notes the way your have your arms tucked behind your back. No doubt you’re loaded with a question.

He mutters a curse, then sighs, aggrieved. “Sup now, kid?”