I don't get tired of listening to you. You know that song you let me save on my crystal? I don't understand a word of it, but I could sing it now.

[ He curls his arm around By's shoulders and demonstrates a few lines of the Antivan murder ballad, half-decent accent and all, ending obliviously in the middle of a sentence because he doesn't know it's not the end.

It takes care of his frown. ]

You should relax, too. I really will tell you in the morning, you'll see. I can tell you something else now. Or we could play another game. Or we could make out.