[Oh, does he love this conversation. Ichimatsu's mouth turns up, a dark chuckle wheezing its way past his teeth.]

Surprised? To think a paradise like this could have so much garbage... but it's true. There's six of us. [He snaps his fingers sharply, counting off each one.] Osomatsu-niisan. Shittymatsu. And me, the unlucky, unburnable fourth: Ichimatsu.