Yes.

“Hey, what the fuck is going on?” Dago cried.

Felix looked up when Dago yelled. He looked a bit more pained when he realized that Dago wasn’t passed out for as long as he thought he should have been. He continued pacing for a moment before saying anything. Dago squirmed, trying to get his hands free, but with no success.

“Hey, I’m fucking talking to you!” Dago yelled again.

Felix stopped right in front of Dago, “Dagoberto Vivar, guilty of Lust, recorded dead in September of 2015?” he asked, seeming anxious.

Dago’s eyes widened, “Who the hell are you?”

Felix swore underneath of his breath. That only meant that it was indeed who he said he was. Felix started pacing again.

“Seriously, what the fuck is going on, I save your damn life and hit me over the head?” Dago yelled, trying to free himself again.

“You’ve got me behind the eight ball. You go and mop me off the pavement, keeping me from kicking the proverbial bucket and you’re the one guy I should put in a Chicago overcoat, no questions asked!” blurted Felix, “The boss is gonna put the Chinese angle on me when he finds out I was chiseled by that dame and came out without being chilled!”

Dago frowned. Damn, this guy talked funny, so he was at a loss for exactly what he meant. He was complaining about Dago patching him up and then said he should have… put him in a coat. What the hell?

“What… in the hell are you talking about?” Dago finally said.

“That goddamn chippy,” Felix muttered, before turning back to Dago, “I should croak you, cut you down, leave you to dance, put the daylight in you!”

Oh, now Dago understood. Felix should kill him, but apparently by saving his life, that was a problem. He thought about that for a second, trying to figure out who would try to kill him and what this random woman he was talking about had to do with anything.