So've I, but it doesn't mean you need to force yourself through a fuckin' oven...

[He's at least on his knees now, slowly dragging himself up, wet from head to toe in the rain--he breathes heavy, grabbing his hairline, smoothing back the stray bits clinging to his forehead.

Slow and steady.]

If this kills me, I swear to god...

They can't shoot me in the face or something like a decent captor?