Is it unsettling to see someone wearing his face and hear his own voice saying the same words circling in his mind like a vulture that just won't die back to him? A little, at the very least. And John blurs the line between bravado and sheer stupidity, standing still letting some demonic facethief touch his two day old stubble.

"I'm getting out," he says with a flinch before moving half an inch away from that uncharacteristically gentle caress. He's got things to take care of. Mistakes to unmake. Some sleight of hand and a bit of wisecracking is all he'd need to be able to swindle the Devil himself. He can walk out of here easy.

"You can stay here and play your Hell games, you miserable sod." He'll have none of that, ta. "I'll be finding me own way out."