[Davesprite cracks a weak smile.]

You asking a guy to play favorites with the offspring of his heart and soul? [A beat.] Hell yeah, I do.

[He clears his throat--he doesn't have the awful hacking coughs that hit some of his friends and his congestion's lessened since the first couple days; it's the fever that's bad, that's burning through him like tissue paper in a bonfire. He takes a breath and starts:]

In my dream, I am the star. It's me. [Another breath.] And then the big man comes...