So I've got a radio-rock, a party popper, and... [...christ, what else is in here?]

[Never mind. He snaps the damn thing shut and reshoulders his bag. He doesn't have the mental capacity to be grateful for it, but the helmet at least masks his scoff, like he doesn't quite believe any of this shit.]

[To be fair, he doesn't quite believe any of this shit.]

Getting shipwrecked on a piece of rock in the middle of nowhere, two times in a row. That's real grounds for celebration.