Roger is currently in one of the seats in the hummer, quietly arguing with no one (at least, no one visible.) "Yes, we checked that out. That one too. Listen, there was nothing. What do you mean... no, no, we checked that as well. Twice. Cindi, I'm tired of arguing... listen, just go away for now.<br/><br/>"I said, I'm not discussing this."<br/><br/>He turns in his seat, and lays his head against the window. He winces every once in a while, like whomever was still yelling at him, but he does his best to ignore it. He seems to be a bit better dressed for the bad weather, but only barely. Jeans, dirty tennis shoes, and a 'Miskatonic University: Go Fighting Cephalopods!' sweatshirt, as well as a pair of old, worn tube socks which he wears like a pair of fingerless gloves.. The rest of his gear - extra clothes, a warm jacket, hiking boots, and a small collection of 'sharps' that he's hoarded over the years (razor blades, knifes, and scalpels).