"Wh-what?" Okay, Johnny officially does not know what to make of this guy. Just casually suggesting arson. Who does that? This room would go up in an instant - but then, it is a dream. It's not like anyone would be hurt. Well, not permanently.

"I'm not very good at imagining," he murmurs. "Or making it stick, anyway. In my experience." He looks around at the mess, considering. Part of him - a very frustrating part - wonders if he'll be able to burn it now, when he was never able to before. Doubtful, really. Even after everything, it still has such an intense hold on him. Even destroying it, he wants to touch the pages, remind himself that they're there, or something. Burning it would almost be too easy.

"I don't know," he says ruefully - he does know, he just feels like a chickenshit. "Something tells me the house might not like it."