"Hm, what have you tried so far?"

"Getting real drunk, except it's not fun if you can't fuck the women at the tavern. Singing. Smashing up broken shit no one wants anymore — from the dump, I'm not stealing it. One of the other guys at the barber's says he's been going for long runs, but my left knee's not so good anymore." He is too Chelish to sound ashamed about the knee issue.

"Oh no, I was going to suggest runs, what rotten luck. Singing's a good one but if it's not helping, hmm... would the knee stop you from boxing or wrestling? We've got free channels, here, if you wrapped up the spar right before one you'd be none the worse for wear and neither would your friend."

"...'s that allowed? It seems like it'd be like beating up the beggars."

"Well, the beggars aren't volunteering to box you! If somebody does I think it's fine. Every great hero learns to fight from scratch, and they start with sparring."

"Huh. I guess I can try that."

"Great! Might be good to have another idea you can do all on your own though... tell me about how singing's working, or rather not working?"

"You're just moving your mouth, it doesn't mean anything. There's none of the release you get from normal hobbies."

"Hm! Do you know Riverboat Song?"

"No."

"It's easy, I bet you can learn the chorus right here and now. Upstream ho, we row and go, load her up and tie it down; downstream ho, we float away, landing soon in port again. Give it a shot?"

"Upstream ho, we row and go, load her up and something down; downstream ho, we float away, something something in port again." He's loud and a bit off-key. It doesn't really sound like he's ever had any sort of musical training.

"...Don't think it's really working. Just doesn't scratch the same itch as—" He makes a fist and punches his other palm demonstratively.

"I hear you. You could try singing louder, or angrier, or see about joining the caroler group in case practicing and getting better at it helps, but it might not work quite how you need it to... do you build things at all? Nailing bits of wood together might be more," fist to palm.

"I guess I could try that." He doesn't really sound like he thinks it'll work.

"Maybe I have the wrong mental image of what you're getting from the dump but if somebody's dumped something there and you smash it to bits I for one think it could be very cool to then turn those bits into an end table or a candleholder or a shelf. But that's me, if it doesn't sound satisfying to you maybe it wouldn't be. I do wonder... what gets you so stressed out to begin with?"

"Lots of things. People being idiots. People smashing up the window of the barber's. The hot spell last month. The rainy spell this month. Not being supposed to fuck people anymore. Bread costing too much. People fucking up at work. And sometimes I'm just bored, you know, don't want to stare at a wall all afternoon."

"Oh, well, for bored your hobbies don't have to be punchy, do they? You can hang out here and take some classes. Maybe you'll meet somebody you get on with. A lady somebody, even, you don't have to be celibate to be Good if you get everything stable and know how you'll look after the children. Which will fill up all your wall-staring time like nobody's business!"

"...Well, I want my hobbies to be fun, otherwise there's not much point."

"Sure, keep trying new things till you find ones that're fun. Better to be bored trying something than bored staring at a wall. Unless it's a great wall."

"Seems like most fun things are Evil. I guess boxing might be alright."

"How do you know if something's fun without trying it?"

"I've tried some things. If they were fun I wouldn't be here."

"There's more things to try. I don't think I've seen you at line dancing yet."

"I guess I can try that. If I can do it with the knee, anyway."

"I don't know just how bad your knee is but we get some little old folks in there who keep up all right."