"Turn around, idiot. You're a drain on our resources."
"I do what I want, me. Can't stop the Stevo, that's my motto. I mean, I just made it up then, but I like it. Maybe I'll use it as my motto now. I always wanted a motto."
Stevo hugs himself and shivers. "Bloody cold up here. Is it gonna be this cold all the way? Oh, that reminds me."
He shrugs off his backpack and pops it on the saddle in front of him. Opening it, he withdraws a bottle of bourbon whiskey.
"This'll sort us out!" he says, unscrewing the lid and taking a swig.