You think this is me being nice? If I was being nice, I'd spare you having to hash out the details of how you're going to die and I'm going to have to do damage control.

[ There's a telltale clicking noise that betrays Andy lighting a cigarette on her end. ]

It's not fretting. I'm too fucking old and tired for that. But this is going to affect the people I care about most in this shithole world, so you better believe I'm going to be involved.