There's a second as Sixshot does some mental math. It had been a pretty big tank of cleanser, heavy too, and even with a good amount of use, it shouldn't have been used up quite so quickly.

Looking at shower handle, he notices it wasn't quite in the same position as when they'd, uh, started.

"I think," he says, reaching out and gingerly turning the shower head back on. "That Spinister is a bit more conscious about shortages than we are."

Memo to self; find more cleanser tanks.

This wasn't going to save Tarn from having to explain things to poor Spinister, but at least he could do it clean. Speaking of, Sixshot carefully leans back, careful not to jostle Tarn too much on his lap as he reaches for one of the scrubs in the corner.