Joe: Well, don't worry about it. I mean, what could happen? Of course, my design could have a few flaws. And after a few weeks, Will and I discover we hate each other. Abigail proves to be the flake of the century; she can't raise a dime. A giant sandstorm comes along, knocks this place over, we go broke, the IRS throws us in jail. The State Department wants to throw me out of the country. But I fool them: in jail, I catch pneumonia and die.