"Up there? Me, an itty-bitty blanco niño?"

He shakes his head, grabs hold of the groove on the opposite wall, then sticks a foot in and jumps before sinking his tomahawk into the wall. The blade slips, and he turns, jumps to the opposite wall-

- and just barely grabs the groove.

"Okay," he says, scrambling into position, "what now, we wait for only half of us to get squished?"