There's no choice but to try things that we have no reason to believe will work, that have no connections to anything. Vitamins. Transfusions.

[With an ill humored single beat of laughter, he finds a cigarette. He's not sure he has the energy to light it now, but after coming this far, it might look too pathetic to stop.]

Of course, it's just busywork. We may as well be rain dancing.

[Exhale.]

I wonder if they'd call this fraud or if I could just get by being labeled a quack.