Don't tell me the wizards had something to do with this. One moment, we've got our Revolution, and now our Revolution's over, I'm in some bloody dark place with some -- what the hell is this thing, anyway? -- some bloody tonputee yelling at me about friends and happiness. Friends and happiness are all very good and jolly, but whisking people away to random dark places isn't the best way to get them.
Oh, bloody hell, I haven't even woken up in a dark place all that many times -- only fourteen, at last count -- but this is getting ridiculous.
Okay, whoever's out there, what the hell do you want? I've got money. Five dollars. That's more than your average copper gets each night. Or, I don't know, would you rather have a tuppenny upright? I can get you that, too. Listen, I don't care who you are. If we can just name a price, everything's all fine and dandy. That'd save both of us a load of trouble.
Just get me the hell out of here.