He watches the exchange affably then nods to Bran.  "You did alright there, man.  But you won't get me again" - it's said with a broad grin as he digs his mobile from his pocket and glances at it.  "As to my pitch, man I've got like seven missed calls from your friend Percy. And a text, he actually took the time to spell out "like" at the end of a sentence.  Daft old coot.<br/><br/>What the hell was I saying?  Oh yeah.  My pitch.  I ain't got one man.  It's like I told your friends here, we're about opening eyes.  That's it.  We're good at what we do - ask your friend Ron about the devastating series of terrorist attacks on the millennium that returned mankind to the dark ages.  Remember them?  So we're good at what we do, and we'll manage.   So I guess that's kinda my pitch.  Ron's powerful, sure, he's a force to be reckoned with in Newcastle.  But the time is coming, and coming fast, when he's an, a what do you call it, an anachronism.  That's my pitch.  I gotta get back to work, fill myself up again."<br/><br/>He laughs and offers his hand to Bran "You won't get me again.  Your friend is right, go and have a drink and a talk.  Take your school uniform off if you're going to try and get served though, man.  Nothing more embarrassing."