"No, I don't remember either. I've died a couple times, I think I'd remember."

But if he's here in hell maybe he did finally kick the bucket. He wonders what asshole on the outside finally did him in if he really lets himself think that this is the afterlife. Lester frowns, but his expression improves when he moves in to take the cigarette between his lips, nodding at the offer of a light.

"I don't got shit," he shrugs, gesturing for Cain to hand over his lighter. It's nice, he may not get it back.