Brady: ......
Kjelle: Oh, hey.
Brady: H-hey, Kjelle. How's tricks?
Kjelle: Tricks are fine, thanks.
Brady: Training again, are ya? Wish I could be like that.
Kjelle: Then quit talking and grab some weights! That's how I've done it—one day at a time, every day of my life.
Brady: Yeah, I remember ya as a kid! Always running around with some pointy stick.
Kjelle: No one gets strong without putting in the time. You've got to sweat for it.
Brady: I'd settle for being half as strong as you. A third, even! Maybe then I could stop doubting myself all the time... How long do you think it'd take for a guy to hit your level, eh? Couple'a weeks or what?
Kjelle: Depends on the guy. Natural talent goes a long way toward speeding things along.
Brady: But ya think anyone can get there eventually, yeah? I mean, if they really bust hump?
Kjelle: Anyone.
Brady: Then ya gotta train me, Kjelle! Ya just gotta!
Kjelle: No.
Brady: What?! How can you say no? I'm pleadin' with ya here!
Kjelle: I'm busy enough with my own training. I don't have the time to waste on you. Besides, you're frail. If you snapped in two an hour into my training regimen, we'd be short a healer.
Brady: ...Guess there ain't much I can say to that little number. Too weak even to get less weak... Gah, look at me! What a Melvin!
Kjelle: Hey, don't let it get you down. ...Or just let it get you down somewhere else. I'm busy.
Brady: Yeesh. No harsh truth a total lack of sympathy can't make worse...