Most fires don't tend to get a soundtrack, and acoustic guitar has rarely been described as sounding desperate. Greg staggers as the ground shifts beneath him, his music twanging awkwardly off-key for a second before he falls back in tempo. He balks at Hunk for a second, before rushing over, still strumming.

"Uhh--hey, can--I need to ask you for help with--"

The balding musician takes a deep breath, before trying again. He's a little wound up literally everything going on, and every time he thinks about what he's about to do makes it worse.

"Could, could you help me out here? I need someone to--Hi, I'm Greg, I'm about to run into that burning building, I thought you should know that before I ask you to help because there's a lot of rubble blocking the way but I figured you should know that before I ask you to also run into a burning building with me."

He'd probably be having a heart attack right now if there weren't more important things to do.