Mild Discussions

George and Jonah sat back in their booth, the encounter with the strange man lingering in their thoughts. The diner's humdrum rhythm resumed, waitresses weaving between tables, refilling coffee cups, and the low murmur of conversations creating a soothing backdrop.

"I wonder what that was all about," George said, his voice almost laughing.

"I’d bet you 500k you are the cause of his rage," Jonah replied, his tone dripping with mock seriousness.

"Come on, I don't do such things nowadays. Unless it pleases me, which none of it does. I’m not Ethan, bro," George said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Yeah, right," Jonah said, sipping his drink. "You sure aren’t Ethan."

There was a melancholy hint in Jonah's voice that George couldn't ignore. He put down his fork and looked at his brother.

"What’s wrong?" George asked.

"Well, that fuck-for-brains tried to kill me during the Houston incident. Make it look like an accident," Jonah said, taking another sip, his eyes distant.