Amos leans back and pats the motorbike's saddlebags, grinning. "Right here, sugar. Weapons an' food for all." Well not all but definitely Party and his crew. He flicks the clasp on one bag and pulls out a jar of fruit preserves to display. None of tge stuff is really fresh, it's all dried or otherwisepreserved but it's apparently better tgan what they can scavenge here.

"As promised, sweetheart."