"BON SANG, EUGENE!!!"

Luke Marceau shouts, taking a container of some liquid out of the refrigerator.

"I told this asshole not to take over my kitchen! What a Fils de pute he is... Why is he always experimenting and mixing something?! Alan and Taras won't do such stuff, but our favorite biochemist will!"

Luke looks at the container in annoyance and pours it into the sink. The young man chuckles and mutters something in French under his breath.

"My poor stew, I made it for everyone. And this pink goose ruined everything! Grrr... And what kind of liquid is it? I hope it's not dangerous, otherwise it will be like last time a mutant appears in the sewer. Agrrrr!!!

Luke exhales and grabs his head.

"Sainte vierge Marie, donne-moi la force de ne pas le tuer."

He sits down on a chair and puts his elbows on the table, staring at one spot. Until his gaze fell on you when you opened the door.