You're the kind of grim reaper who's still a teenager and still learning, Kid. [John's not overly physically affectionate, but he does pull his wrist loose from Kid's grip if the lad will allow it and shift his scissors to his other hand with the tweezers so that he can reach up and squeeze Kid's shoulder.]

You're trying your best. That's all I can ask for, Kid. I wouldn't want anyone near my eyes, either. We'll just take it slow. One stitch at a time. There're four more. You can do this. Try counting again for me, okay? Out loud. As loud as you need to be. [It might bother the others, but they can go hang for the moment. If Kid wants to scream counts of eight, that's fine.

One last squeeze and then his scissors are back in the left hand and John pinches the next knot with the tweezers.] Just count, Kid.