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Thom took some small satisfaction in the fact that both dog and frog were clearly terrfied of him. He wasn't entirely thrilled with the fact that he had to sit on Newt, nor was his temper helped at all by the fact that he hadn't eaten yet, but maybe he could be done with this quickly, ensure that Newt wouldn't kill anyone the moment he was free, and figure out where that rabbit had gotten to.

His tongue gave a lazy flick in search of said rabbit, and, after assuring himself that his meal was still in the area, Thom returned his attention to the argument--or, rather, to Jordan, utterly ignoring Newt for the moment. He doubted he could get any sense from the frog anyway. "He's th' first islander I've 'eard of to get in trouble for doin' nothing. What should 'e be doin' instead, hmm?"

"Wh-what do you DO, J-j-jor-jor-jordan??" Newt snarled, throat expanding on either side of his neck with a loud, angry croak. "M-muh-muh-messenger f-from where?? Fruh-fruh-from WHO?" Tears were streaming down his fat froggy face, his eyes wobbling as angry tears flooded from them in an obscene amount of liquid.

He glared at Newt, willing him to shut up, but it wouldn't happen. What choice did he have? Go through the wringer again or get tackled by the swampthing.. Jordan rubbed his temples in obvious frustration. He'd have to milk this part and make it convincing. "Like I said. I was a messenger. I was sent to find Newt. To tell him to return to his duties. As I see it, I did not have much choice in the matter." his stomach was churning, not just because of stress, but because it felt like there was something else present, something moving around inside him, like in those Aliens movies.

"I was only being a team player. Whatever happened after-the-fact is beyond my knowledge and I cannot take responisibility for. But there's your answer." Jordan looked up, pale as a ghost as the dread filled him. He'd practically said he was a Feral grunt and that was never good to divulge to anyone else. "So.. what now..?"

Oh brilliant, he had captured a lab cronie. The situation was quickly growing ridiculous, moreso when Newt stopped defending himself and went back to crying. Bloody nuisance. Jordan was obviously not telling the truth, at least not the whole truth, but he couldn't well drag it out of the dog man while he had to restrain Newt. And even assuming he managed to do so, what was he supposed to do from there? He had already injured Jordan, there wasn't much more he could get away with, especially if the dog man really was working for the labs.

"You bugger off," he finally muttered, waving Jordan away. "An' you'd best 'ope I don't 'ear that you're still pesterin' Newt. 'Urry up, leave."

Newt, meanwhile, stay quiet and miserable under the coils of the snake. What was Thom going to do? Shout at him? Tell him he was being stupid? Tell him he should just quit? He could laugh! And then cry miserably once again over all those uncontrollable factors that seemed to have taken a hold of every aspect of his life. He ribbited miserably, choking on tears and mud.

Newt stay quiet for a short while, his trembling slowing into a broken sort of flop. "H-his n-name is... Jor-jor-jor-jor-jordan..." He shifted to curl onto his side, wriggling his legs to try to free his skinny ankles. "H-he... I d-don't know b-but... b-but he's... he's n-not..." it was evident the frog was still outraged, his throat puffing in a disgruntled fashion.

Sitting back in his comfortable crouch once again, Newt took a moment to try to center himself. In and out, breath slowly. "I c-c-cuh-cuh-can't s-s-stop stuh-stuh-stammering," he croaked indignantly, whiping his eyes with the sleeve of his jumper.

"P-p-p-pardon?" Newt glanced down at his hand and back up again. For as often as he'd been picked on for his stutter, no one had actually tried to help him with it. He only knew that he couldn't get his mouth to cooperate with his brain, not any of the technicalities of his affliction. He shook his head, mouth opening and closing a few times before he started, "H-he s-s-says he..." He licked his lips, trying to tap a rhythm on his knee. Unfortunately he had about as much of a sense of rhythm as a rock. "W-w-woo-works f-for the luh-luh-labs b-but... but I... I d-don't th-think he d-d-does at all!" That was a start, at least.