"Say that on fuckin' record, will ya," he grumbles, snatching for the cannoli irritably. That little waft of warmth that comes with Alastor isn't enough right now, he's all goosepimples in the chill. "I've been told I don't work hard enough. You believe that? Me?" He gestures emphatically at himself, beating his chest with the flat of his hand, the cannoli already forgotten in favour of some choice gesticulations. "Anyway, since when are you dealing with the rest of my family? You get an invite to my little cousin's sweet sixteen?"