*He frowns down at the beer, silently questioning if his stomach can handle it yet. Deciding he didn't care, he reached for it, twisting the top off easily, the calouses on his hands barely even registering the divoted metal. It was an American beer anyway, he could hardly even classify it as alcohol.*

Oh, mostly lame stuff. Babysitting, roof repair, some private eye type stuff. Sometimes some world saving.

*He sipped his beer, watching the fish in the aquarium for a moment.*

I don't charge for the world saving.