Oh man. I'd be worried, if I were you, his sense of humor tends to lean towards the "dry and dark" end of the spectrum. You might end up with a severed horse's head in your bed or something.

Yeah, not really. I mean, I CAN talk, a little, I just probably shouldn't be. Also I'm on a crazy large amount of drugs. Talking to me would probably be frustrating and unrewarding, right about now, you could maybe wait another week, until breathing no longer feels like death. But after that I'd probably strangle puppies for a visitor; I'm a social animal, in theory if not in practice.