[Hank gives him the go ahead with a careless wave of his hand, kind of aware, in a peripheral sort of way, of what it is Simon’s trying to do. But not really aware. If he was aware, he’d have to decide what to do about it, how to write it off. So he’s not aware. He’s not really in the mood for deciding anything.]

One of us might as well be able to fuckin sit.

[He mutters it, thinking briefly of oversized beds.]

They can lay down too, you know that? They don’t float away or anything. Wonder how that fucking works.

[He mutters this too, deciding that if he’s going to have to keep going with this small talk bullshit, he’s going to have to be a little drunker. So he tries to navigate his way around the stupid sippy cup top of this weird underwater bottle again. He’s getting the hang of it.]