Here in New York, yes, here in whatever weird fabricated world this is too. But he won't mention that, telling people they're fictional doesn't tend to endear them towards you.

Still, her suggestions make him shake his head.

"No. No I don't travel that way. I don't have a wallet, and anything I do have is gone. So here I am, just me and a wet bowtie to my name. No way of getting back, no way of working it out, reel him up and let him go." He sighs, and rubs his temples, trying not to get too frustrated.

"I'm not from around here," he says evenly. "I'm from along way away."