In the future, when things are looking their worst, and Skulduggery finds himself precariously suspended over an internal vat of boiling rage and hatred, only one thing might keep him from absolutely losing his shit over everything. That one thing will be this moment, ensrhined in the amber of his memory.

The entire vision before him is a... a masterpiece. His own personal piece of art, all of his own design. The dead-eyed stare, the way the $20 shirt bunches up over the shoulders of Max's likely $1,000 suit, the sheer dumb fuckery of it all -- it's all just. It's too much.

The absurdity of his situation hits him like a brick through the eye-socket. All of it overwhelms him at once. He's stuck on this damn boat in the middle of an infinite ocean, after having been ripped from the clutches of evil gods who most certainly are still out there looking for him, playing cards with a robot for an ugly shirt when he should be looking for a way back home...!!!

"I think," he begins, and then he has to bury his face in his hands, lest his hysterics overcome him and cause a scene. He visibly struggles not to burst out laughing, but a few unhinged giggles do slip out. "Sorry, just --"

Oh, wow, is this what losing your mind feels like? Skulduggery's never done it before, so he's not sure!