He nods, sinking into the armchair.

"That job was a fucking nightmare. Can you imagine being some boring-ass farmer who just died from the bubonic plague and he doesn't wanna leave his stupid breather family and then I show up trying to force him through the door? Got one too many pitchforks to the face.

And that wasn't the worst of it. All the crying and carrying on. Jesus christ. Why are we talking about the past?"