Who you been with?" He parks himself beside Grey Jay, stretching his too-long legs straight out in front of him.
You seen this yet?" Grey Jay pulls the bottle out of his pocket and hands it to Craig.
"It has to do with TV and movies and the NFL and the American League and Babe Ruth candy bars and Tammy Sue Baker..." Grey Jay spots Luke Skywalker again who waves and then begins a mocking game of peek-a-boo.
"We'll call our first wine 'Washington's Cherry Blush' and we'll work our way along until we get to the the top of the line, the two-hundred-dollar-a-bottle stuff and we'll call that 'Grapes of Wrath' or the 'Last Supper Wine.'" As a series of odd expressions play across Grey Jay's face, Craig stops talking to watch.
Grey Jay pulls his attention back to Craig and gives him a little snorting laugh.
As Grey Jay smiles broadly at his friend he says, "Can't afford to be picky these days." Then, despite his bulky coat, he grabs hold of the lowest branch, swings his legs up, and easily pulls himself upright onto the branch and begins reconnaissance of the park.
Why the hell don't you use those for a change." He waits for a response from Grey Jay. None comes, and he continues.
Grey Jay is perched in the tree as comfortably as his namesake might be, lying on the branch on his back with one leg dangling over the side.
"They do now." Grey Jay waits for his buddy to look up before he adds, "Because they've buried him." He holds the stare-down a beat or two before he grins.