I open the door and enter and almost immediately there 's a knife lodged in the wall beside my head. 'Jesus! Pardon the intrusion! ' I shriek, ducking and covering my head with my hands.

'Pardon me! Pardon me! I 'm Wanze, mad, pardon me! ' the son of a bitch in question sings, rolling about the car on some kind of cart. 'What 's up?! Are you hungry?! I 'm head chef, so I can make you anything! '

'Er ' no. I 'm just passing through to get to car three, ' I say awkwardly.

He stops rolling to stare at me in dismay. 'Not even, like, ramen or something? '

I grimace. 'Nope. I gotta go. Pardon the intrusion, ' I repeat, shuffling past him and out the door at a speed walk.

Just before entering the next car, I stab the scrap of cloak from T-Bone I 've been carrying into the door via a bent safety pin I fish out of my pocket. Never hurts to have one on you, unless it pops open and stabs you.