Harold, shrugged, he didn't particularly care one way or the other about finding out who his godly parent was.  "It doesn't really matter to me whether we do or not.  I've gone eighteen years without knowing anything about it, and I've done just fine."<br/><br/>When he mentioned his encounter with Sarah, his brows furrowed.  "Um, well, I might have called her a bitch once or twice.  But only because she pissed me off, by trying to insinuate either of my parents hadn't been faithful."  Harold turned his head to face the approaching the supposed brother, and his eyes widened.  He pushed out of his chair, stumbling away from the large hand aiming for his head.  "Whoa!  Dude, what the hell??  Settle down, I don't remember ever pissing in your kool-aid!"  The guy obviously looked ready for a fight, and did not look like someone Harold wanted to mess with.  He looked like he'd be at home in a biker bar brawl.  Behind him, Harold could see Sarah running up, shouting at the guy to stop.<br/><br/>His eyes flicked over to where his duffel bag was leaning against the table, cursing at his luck.  He had a baseball bat that he had brought along for just this sort of occasion, but it didn't do him any good out of reach.  Letting out a sigh, he pushed his bad leg behind him, and brought his fists up in front of his face.  He wasn't technically trained in any way of fighting, but he was determined to give as much as he could.