"Look Mews, I know why you've asked me here. Regis is in trouble-ha, what's new? I'm here to tell you I know nothing of his latest issues. Regis has been nothing but trouble for me-he was married not to me but to his microphone-and when he wasn't working at the studio he was drinking and chasing waitresses at that dreadful bar near his work-The Hand Me Down. But I want nothing to do with him anymore. I can't stand that beast and I couldn't even stand to blackmail him." Mews nodded his head and Quigley jotted down some notes.
"Does he still frequent this bar-The Hand Me Down?"
"Oh, I don't know, I'm sure he does. A malignant narcissist such as Regis needs to get his daily dose of not just Jack and Coke but of ego-stroking. Lord knows why, but Regis has a way of making people do back-flips for him. If you and Mr Quigley here would like me to accompany you to the bar I'd be happy to do so," Imelda McBain said flashing Quigley a lipstick-smeared smile.
"Thank you but no, that won't be necessary," Quigley said hopping off of his chair. We want to thank you for coming," Quigley said cutting off the conversation prematurely.