[Doug claps a hand over his mouth, gagging into it with a none too pleasant sound. He cranes his neck, looking away from the woman just long enough to look for someone, anyone who might be willing to take his place.

Finding nothing, he looks back down at the gore pile with a defeated sigh.]

What's it mean if it's jagged? [The image of her finger delving into the wound assails his mind again. Another gag follows.]

Man let me tell you. It'd be great to know a medical thing or two. One time I bumped my head real hard on the ceiling, anti-grav is a real pain in the ass, you hear -- [He trails off.] Probably. Not... The time for that, huh?