"...In his underpants."
"So it'd seem."
"Isn't that indecent exposure?"
"Gettin' awful close."
"Shouldn't you be arresting him?"
The younger Kernow looked up from his seat on the mall bench to fix his father an incredulous stare.
"Why the hell not?" The boy asked, pointing at the offending figure with one of his crutches. "He's a mad, naked ginger running and dancing through the streets screaming about evil spirits."
John Sr. took a long drag from his cigar before answering.
"Because a mad, naked ginger runnin' and dancin' through the streets screamin' about evil spirits is the most goddamn entertainin' thing I've seen all day." He explained through his thick accent "'Sides, 'e 'as nipple rings. I refuse to be frightened of a man 'oo 'as nipple rings."
Jack didn't bother surpressing his snort.
The older man let out a laugh as he stepped away from the wall he'd been leaning on and offered his son a hand up, out of necessity more than anything, as Jack's recent spell of sickness had made even such a rudimentary movement an incredibly strenuous exercise.
"C'mon, I'll drive ye home in the squa-."
Suddenly, they felt it. Not an explosion, but a definite and unnatural 'thwoom'-ing sensation.
To top that sudden pulse of dread both father and son felt, the people outside had stopped congregating around the funny man in his underpants and were now running and screaming in that good old-fashioned 'Godzilla is Pissed' kinda way. Though he'd been off-duty for nearly an hour now, John immediately pulled out his pistol and turned to leave. He wasn't exactly pleased to leave Jack behind, but there'd be no way in hell he'd be able to get the near-crippled lad to his squadcar while wading through the terrified mob.
"Stay here." He ordered over his shoulder, emphasizing his point by both saying it in Welsh and in the tone he used to drill unruly recruits in. "Ya go out there, and ye'll only get trampled to death. I'll come back and collect ya in a tic."
"The fu-" Jack started, not exactly happy to sit pretty while something freaky enough to scare the knickers off thousands of people was apparently only a foodcourt and a glass wall away.
"BOY, YER A FRIGGIN' CRIPPLE, AND I WILL CRIPPLE YA MORE IF YA DON'T KEEP YER ARSE RIGHT WHERE IT IS."
Satisfied that that comment had managed to stifle the boy's protests, John hurried out the abandoned foodcourt and disappeared into the human sea.
Jack, stunned into silence, found himself only able to make one comment.