The script...? At first, he looks puzzled. Then he takes back the notebook and examines the words on its page. Ah.... His expression turns a touch glum. "My apologies." He turns the page and begins to write again. The letters come to him but they are a little slower than they would be had he written words every day. The alcohol certainly does not help.

"After the end of our world, those who followed invented their own languages and written word. I had to memorize them, and now they've become habit." He sighs in frustration. "That I would forget something so simple."

The notebook is offered again, this time with the proper words on it.