[Arkady scoffs slightly. The girl can be so childish sometimes. But she doesn't rise to the bait.]

I suppose we'll see.

[The room goes white for a moment, and then turns into what looks like a hippie crash pad with various baskets lining the walls. In the baskets are various chaotic stacks of papers which rustle and rearrange themselves occasionally. A large old fashioned television gives static and quiet white noise. On the couch facing it Arkady sits, pair of chickens on lap, glowing faintly purple.]

Here we are. We can look at your memories from here.