The ones where they take the insides out and rub it all over like Pine-sol.

"Told you you would be fine," Larry says that with supreme confidence. Hopefully his doubts at the warehouse with Mr. Pink weren't overheard.

He scratches his chin and looks at the ceiling. "We get a car. We get a car and get the hell out of here. Staying in one place on the West Coast wouldn't be a good idea right now."