It’s okay, Connor. You’re stubborn, yeah? Who else d’you know like that?

[There’s multiple people now, even. That weird doctor guy. Catdog.]

I get that the mess is overwhelming, and I get that you feel bad. But it’s not like you went and, I dunno, burned the place down. I care more about how you feel. And this whole thing is obviously making you upset, so...

[Hank shrugs.]

We could just leave, you know. [Raising his hand again to cup Connor’s cheek, which is not at all necessary for cleaning purposes. But he tilts Connor’s head ever so slightly as if inspecting him for stray bits of frosting.] Could just take Sumo and fuck off somewhere. Anywhere. Not like they’re forcing us to stay in this apartment.

Just — [Hank clears his throat; drops his hand] — saying this isn’t the end all, be all.