It doesn't look like anything else is about to explode any time soon, so Wash, still taking care, picks up the note.

And snorts back a laugh when he reads it. "Thanks, Tim."

When he sees the Klein bottle, the wry humour slips away into something like awe. He pulls it out for a closer look...which he can't do for more than a minute before his eyes start watering.

"And, of course, I have no pockets." He sets it on the Bar and gives it a mock-glare. "Which is your fault, if I can point that out. Think you can at least hold onto that for me until you decide I can look normal again?"

If a plank of would could look innocent, the Bar would be right now. The Klein bottle vanishes.