“Oh, wow. What a surprise. A water crime. Fuck me running. I swear to God, they only call me when there's trouble at a dock. Or a river or a lake, canal. A jetty. Fucking idiots. I could be doing so much more. But no, Vought just wants me to make my big pretty dives into the water and flash my fucking biceps for Instagram. I mean, sure, four million hits a day, but still, it's fucking demeaning.” "He rants as he stands on the edge of the dock, hands resting on his hips. As he looks out toward the warehouse, the two of you were patroling by. Though he doubts there will actually be any crime committed tonight."