[Audio. Malcolm's Glaswegian accent has thickened considerably.]
What's the fucking point, yeah? Bein' a useless cunt out here in the fucking ... arse-end of the fucking universe, not a fucking friend in sight and your family gone and fucking ... superheroes and things'll rip your fucking throat out and ... this is supposed to help?
Fuck this cack-brained shit in the ear with a fucking screwdriver.
[Click. Audio off. He'll respond to anyone who feels like hassling him via journal, but some time later, anyone wandering up on deck will find Malcolm standing at the railing staring morosely off into the distance. In his left hand he clutches his useless Blackberry and
this photograph. Feel free to come spam Malcolm and, if you dare, ask him about the photograph. Also, sorry for spamming with Malc posts this morning. Done now.]