[Greedy little shit, aren't you? Tate cuts him a look, then shakes his head. Raises a finger as if to tell Michael to wait before shifting back, settling onto the play structure's shitty grate floor and putting his back to a plastic and metal wall. He closes his eyes, enjoying a moment of - quiet before he speaks.]

Give it like, at least twenty minutes man. Otherwise you're just burning through it. Just... enjoy the feeling?

[He figures he needs a method of distraction.]

In the meanwhile, tell me something about yourself.