Janitor from hell. John wrinkles his nose, pushes to his feet because crouching in the snow is getting uncomfortable.

"Well, remind me not to hire one next time I need a janitor. I could do without the stress."

You know, the stress of being uncertain if they're going to suddenly develop a taste for people. It seems like it's probably not worth the trouble.

"Keeping all those?"

The photos, that is. John doesn't know if they're all... good memories, after all.