"Well obviously," Flynn shrugs. "But I'm just saying—if we ever get off this rock and back to our rock, my schedule is clear."

Not that he's particularly game for decades of work, but who knows he could wrap it up in a few months time, rub it in Drake's face, then drink himself stupid and wake up with a stranger in an island country. That's the dream, isn't it?

Better than scrapping over corpses, anyway.