[ Words can't do his fancy hot tub justice, so it's best to leave that one a mystery. He's a little too rattled to pick up that typical bait, anyway. ]

Great, it's all settled then. Thirty-second floor is all yours, I'll order double the housekeeping. Just keep the explosions relatively contained and we'll be problem-free. Bet you'll love New York pizza, too.

[ And as far as he's concerned - it is settled. Go back to a world where all that awaits you is death? Absolutely not. It's beyond outrageous, and he wouldn't wish it on (most) anyone - but especially not Hawke. "Dead" and "Hawke" are two concepts so far removed that putting them together makes no sense at all. ]