His first thought is the guy had his throat cut; it’s just the kind of thing the jerks out here would pull. "Holy shit, are you kidding me, man? Are you fucking kidding me? That's some tough shit, that's real fucked up, they cut your... Ah... Uhm. Wait wait wait." Because that's not right, is it? Going over the gestures again, he sees a different meaning. Still shitty, but with a little less actual throat-cutting.

"Hehh, that's me, always jumping to conclusions. But I get you now, man. Sure, I get it. People really don’t like you, huh? Or they don't like what you've got to say? Sometimes I feel like that. Uh, felt like that. Back at the complex. Every time I'd start shooting off my mouth and the Man would give me a look or, ah, or just push me into a corner and give me some of his own words. Because, you know, he has the real gift, a true way of speaking, and I... Hell, I'm just splashing around, small fish in a small pond, you know what I mean?"

He's grinning now, fiddling with his camera. "Hey, uh. Is it okay if I talk around you? Or does that piss ‘em off? The people who want to" he repeats the gesture, finger across the throat "you?”