[Red lines travel across Nathan's face and what's visible of his body like sweeping blood spatter trails, but if he notices or even cares, he makes no indication. Instead, he rubs his hands together.]

One, two, three, four, I declare...a fucking battleship war.

[Jazz hands away from the camera to gesture toward a box of the game Battleship. Or, well, a general knockoff approximation of what is clearly Battleship.]

We'll need two teams. Pick your allies, defend your ships. I'll be playing as your game master, today.