"I assume you have good news?" He leaned back in his chair and pressed his fingertips together, classic, though cliché.
I stared at him coolly. "If you'd like to step back into the House, you can see for yourself."
His eyes gleamed and he leaned forward, "I almost can't believe you two fuck-ups succeeded." He laughed and pinched the bridge of his nose, his personal exit motion. I lent down to my bag and slowly undid the zipper, drawing it out as much as I dared. I was insulted by how little faith he had in my skills, so I showed what little defiance I could by making him wait.
As I carefully drew the durians out of my bag, Jack roughly snatched it out my hands, recklessly drawing blood from both our hands. I winced as some of my blood dripped onto my bag, it wouldn't do to have my DNA scattered everywhere. I'd have to get it professionally cleaned if I ever wanted to use it again. I twirled my hands slowly so that the blood wouldn't drip and made my way to the kitchen.
Ten minutes later, after both our hands were sprayed and the mess cleaned up, Jack abruptly said, "Good job. I know you know I didn't think you guys had it in you, but I'm impressed. I'd pat you on the shoulder but my hands are still wet."