The music's also in questionable taste. It sounds like stuff picked more for intelligibility at high volume, beat, and lyrics and themes that may be chorused along with drunkenly, than music picked for actual musical merit.
But then, I'm a snob.
FatherSir trained me in my pseudo-ninja-esque skills of silence and sneakery, and also in observation. I have the "sensitive nose" of my paternal line -- something that evidently also goes along with the nose shape. You can, in any given photo of my paternal-line relatives, tell which ones are genetically related to GrandfatherSir, and which ones have married in, by the nose. I have the nose quite strongly; swallowtayle may have gotten a more refined version of it. (Little Fayoumis has his mother's nose; it's starting to emerge from his baby-face.)
I smell stuff. It's what I've been trained to do. Unfortunately, my nose is so badly congested so much of the time, that I'm walking around half-crippled, as far as scent's concerned. Other times, I don't notice it so much until a scent smacks me in a trigger spot. I have this thing for the way leather smells on men. Some days, Fuzzy smelled of leather and coffee and exhaust. Darkside smelled of leather and dryer-scorched fabric. When he wears his work uniforms, before he snaps up the shirt, I just want to let my face rest against his bare warm neck...
Can we tell that the Lunatic's tired? I think we can.