That's pretty sad if that's the only way you meet people. [Frustrated, he shakes his head.] I know you from somewhere else.

[But where? Half to himself:] I just don't know how you got here.

[And with that seed of doubt growing, Firo turns around to look at his casino, only to realize that the street they're on is different now--not majorly changed, but different. The same type of brick and stone buildings, but scrambled around, some taller, some shorter compared to how they were just moments ago. The cops are still bustling around, but the entrance to his casino doesn't look right at all--whatever it is, it's not his.

He doesn't need this crap right now.

Thinking of pruno and the bottom of the ocean, he turns and steps in close to Hank in one smooth movement. Now that less and less is adding up, it's occurring to him that he can't be home, but he can't let his heart break over that when he's still in front of (probably) a real person.]

You know me. Come on, you drank my booze, and you don't remember?

[Big words for a guy who barely remembered either until a moment ago, but hey. If Firo were in Hank's shoes, he'd totally take the bait.]