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That's Just Crazy Talk
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Man, somebody was on edge today. George supposed that it was weirder that he wasn't on edge, but at the same time, he was having trouble sympathizing with the fellow holding a knife on him. Whatever shit this kid had gone through to make him like this was probably incomparable to what he himself had seen. The fact that he was pulling a knife on a guy who had just casually greeted him wasn't gaining him any points either. Perhaps it was just that George was made of sterner stuff, and this kid had caved under the pressure, and THAT was what had turned him into a gibbering idiot. It seemed like the most logical conclusion.

"Listen kid, I'm gonna have to ask you to put away that knife," he said. "Not that I think you'd beat me in a fight, but I'm not comfortable talking to someone who's got a weapon out." To accentuate the point, George set the chair down sideways on the ground. "As for why I'm here...eh, just passing through. And the sooner you calm down and stop acting like an idiot, the sooner I can leave."

Turning slightly, George noticed that more people were coming up the path. He'd seen them before, back in the residential area, but he'd walked on by. Were they following him specifically, or was this just a strange coincidence? Either way, this wasn't likely to result in anything good, especially if Remy was scared enough of just him. Things could get ugly really quickly. And so, while George didn't immediately pick his gun up, he did step to the side so that he could pick up his chair at a moment's notice. He wasn't going to start attacking folks just for seeming suspicious, unlike some people, but he wasn't going to be stupid either.
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