JIMMY: "Remember me? Keep your hands on the table. Relax I'm not going to kill you. Did you serve, Liam? In the war. Three years. France, mostly. It's almost impossible to describe the horror. It's a living. Waking. Nightmare. There was a soldier. A German. Him and his men tried to attack our position in the Argonne Forest. It was nighttime. And while he was trying to climb through some barbed wire, I shot him, twice. Once in the stomach, once in the neck. He slumped over the barbed wire. And no matter what he did to try to wriggle free, it just got worse for him. I left him there like that for days, listening to him moaning, crying. "Mutti, mutti". That's German for "Mama, mama!". That's what he kept saying. The curious thing, is that despite the fact that his situation was utterly hopeless, he didn't want to die. I offered to kill him several times. He just kept fighting. Like some miracle would befall him and get him out of his predicament. We hold on so desperately to life. Some people feel, certainly in that soldier's situation, that being alive is...is much, much worse. I'm gonna go now. I don't want to ever see you again.