"Fine by me. I can handle the thug beating myself. I'll beat that shit so hard Michael Jackson himself will rise from the dead to give me a sweet fistbump for how funky and strong my fight is."

Don't worry about it too much if none of that made sense. He does have a tendency of just going on about nothing like that.

Now, Dave's pretty sure he's capable of taking out some robbers. He definitely had some sweet moves before the game began, after all. But he might have gotten a bit used to working with his game powers, and he can feel that they aren't working like he's used to here, feel it like he can feel the steady progression of seconds ticking by. And it's just a little unnerving to be going mostly back to basics, unsure of whether or not even the whole "heroic or just death" immortality rules still apply.

"So," he adds, trying to sound as chill and unaffected as ever. "What kind of cover can you provide? Gotta know what I'm working with, right?"