[That earns a scoff, surprisingly humored. He does have to consider his answer for a moment, though he doesn't stop his stride.]

Because following an angry, second-rate bastard is better than starting at a white ceiling or a white floor for hours, and it gives you some convoluted chance to talk about yourself and make some general noise in some attempt to distract yourself from how little you actually might amount to in the end.

Glad to be of fucking service.