"..." said Newt, plaster trickling out of his hair in a thin white stream. This, oddly enough, reminded him a little of the not-pocalypse, and he blushed. Well, that time he'd gotten plaster in his hair in infinitely prettier company.

Also, a cat hadn't landed on his head.

"Ow!" He said crossly, dabbing at his forehead and coming away with blood. "Cut and soft?! That thing scratched me!