I have absolutely no idea what makes you think I have time to sit here and listen to you prevaricate, but if all you called me here to do is trade thinly veiled barbs while you completely fail to give me any specifics that might help you, I'm leaving.

[Ratchet folds his arms and settles back on the bench, thoroughly annoyed.]

I can't imagine you'd've commed me personally if you had an overabundance of options, so we can either get on with it or I can go home.