[Kimbley doesn't say anything for a moment in favor of making his way over to the bed and flopping down onto it; if Greed's not going to sit down, then hell, he will, as uncomfortable though the beds are.]

And if it were me, I'd go after him next.

[He doesn't sound too bothered by that prospect, though.]

He gets ideas and he talks about them. More importantly, his ideas make sense - he can turn the group, easy. And did you see what people were doing afterwards? Telling him it's not his fault? He got me telling him it wasn't his fault.

[He brings one of his hands up idly, cracking his wrist softly as he speaks.]

He's going to be next against the wall.