[Pickles should remember that feeling. When he'd first arrived on the ship, he'd been completely on his own and nobody knew him, any of his songs, or even how to play a fucking guitar. It had sucked. He remembers it sucking. But the feeling itself? That's so far removed that he doesn't know if it exists.

It's, like, there's this ginormous gap of emptiness between his memories of then and now, a yawning chasm of nothing that swallows up any of the emotions he should connect to the memories. Was it eaten by the ship? Or is it just buried somewhere under all this cheap-ass Montana good-old-boy bullshit?]

Yeah? Uhhh, I mean! Yes, I'm ~totes~ down to jam, are you kiddin' me? [Might as well get a feel for this dude's capabilities. ...If he's a better guitarist than Toki, would that make Toki better? Probably not, huh, but it really makes you think.] I haven't gotten to play wit' anybody else in... I dunno. An eternity, I guess? [SHRUG]