This is the most graceless he's look in his entire life, he thinks. He's devoid of swag, all he possesses is the ability to doggy paddle and flail around in the water, but he feels like he's making process. Until he hears something creaking in the distance. What he hears is the sound of a load of floating furniture finally busting through a door when the ship is angled just enough for the cascade of furniture to flow fast toward them.

"Holy shit-" Is about all he manage to sputter out as he gets swept off to the side by a barrage of tables and chairs. "Fuck this- Anna?" He calls out, clinging desperately to whatever seems sturdy right now.