A glare is shot back over at Keats, really, a picnic, honestly. He knows perfectly well that the reporter was trying to get his goat, making him groan quietly at the prospect of having to put up with him any longer than he had to. Keats was Keats; the sass never changed and the banter never ended. He didn't choose his coworker but he was stuck with him and that was that.

He slides off the barstool, hands finding his jacket pockets once more, mentally preparing himself for the task at hand. They were going to travel and that meant more close contact with a certain unwanted reporter. "Los Angeles, huh. Never heard of it. Either way, it doesn't matter; we'll be in and out of there if I've got any say about it. When do we leave." He hopes it would be exciting. Maybe he could leave Keats in a ditch while they were there, and get rid of one more problem on his hands. Though, he's sure Greed would never let that fly; but a Saiyan can dream.