"I still maintain that I am perfectly mannered." You leave his perfectly polite pointing finger out of this. "Plenty'a people to confirm it," he continued, as though it would change Doc's mind. They'd argue playfully until forever over this not!point.

If Doc didn't like the way Raylan was, he wouldn't be here. He thought he doth protest too much.

"We are what we remember. If we don't remember, then the argument could be made that none of this really happened. The scars, the bruises, the echoes of bites, your belts," he said, glancing over with a pull of his lips as he considered the inside of his glass, lips falling again.

"If we get to keep the memories of this place.. Then it'll matter. I have to work on the assumption we will. I can't imagine not." Or rather he could and he hated the way it felt to even think about it. "I matter now, but when this ends, it's all up in the air, that's all I mean."