Dana's happy to see him too; she would go in for a hug but they're both messy enough as it is. She takes in the kitchen, standing with her hands on her hips and smiling a little in disbelief.

"Well I was hungry," she says, looking at the floor and the counters and the sink, and the window treatments. "You know it's so odd, I was just in the dining room and everything was so tastefully decorated, too! Whoever's house this is supposed to be, I don't think they have a good relationship with their cook."

A thought occurs to her, and it distracts her from the unfortunate wallpaper. Dana almost claps a hand to her mouth but that would only exacerbate the blood problem. "Oh Cecil," she says, eyes going wide and serious, like a realtor deer. "You don't suppose this is the cook, do you?" The mess seems quite extensive, but there's quite a lot of blood in a human body after all.