Maybe some time I can play guitar for you. [He says with tired defeat. There are so few things to look forward to. Just small ones. He's grasping at straws. No revenge. No good future. The best thing he has is David.]

I used to play a lot. [He rambles a little.] My guitar... the ingress brought it. But it's a ghost. It should be at the bottom of an ocean, eaten away by the years. But it's real and in my room.

Yeah. I should show you. [Muttered.] Not now. I'd sound bad. [And it's obviously taking a lot of focus to walk.]