he clams up at this question. it’s like someone’s dragged his stomach out through his bellybutton and squeezed it aloft while he watches. he can’t answer this - but he has to, it’s part of the game, right? swallowing the fiery ball in the base of his throat, he licks his lips and begins.
“...we, uh... we used to start fires. back in china. i mean, when i was a kid.” a pause. “a teenager, so, uh, not a kid, but yeah. i got in trouble a lot. stealing, breaking stuff. robbing people, once. but the fires were... i mean... does it count as risky if you actually succeed? get caught? or, like... hurt someone?”