[ God, but he is out of his element here. Rook perches uneasily on a chair that probably cost a month's worth of pay for him (or more, though the thought only makes him more uncomfortable). He folds his hands together, elbows on his knees, and watches Michael. ]

Hah. Yeah, sure, let's go with that. I mean it's been a- what, a week or something, I guess. Where'd you go? Just didn't feel like socializing?

[ The discordant fact that he's casually talking about prison while not considering where he is doesn't seem to occur to him. ]