Sure enough, the apartment's buzzer sounds almost as soon as Tzahala puts her butt in the seat.<br/><br/><em>"Oi, Oi... Y'thereMiss?"</em>Even through the intercom, the runner can tell that the Troll's voice is...<em>off.</em>Oh, it's his natural voice, to be sure; but it sounds almost like there's something else in his head with him. And of course, the slightly-nasal tinges of a Novacoke addiction don't exactly make him seem like the most stable source.<em>"Tishtoldmeyadidgood... Agh. That ya did a good job fer the girls, an' that you know how to keep your voice down. Gottajobthatneedsdoin'... if yer willin' to bravethegrey... BAH!"</em><br/><br/>The sound of metal smacking against metal is clearly audible over the intercom... but the troll continues as if nothing happened.<br/><br/>"Let me try again..." Now, the man is clearly focusing all of his attention on keeping his voice calm and clear... though the nova-coke and neurosis still make their presence heard as well. "We need someone... who's not afraid of the...  Jacks. You... good for the job?"