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: Oh, my God! What's wrong with my arm? Dylan, what's wrong with my arm? What happened? Dylan Dog
: Relax. It's a loaner. Marcus
: A loaner? Dylan Dog
: Yes. They were out of Caucasian in your size.
: I guess we could just talk about the location of the flesh-eating zombie when you guys are done boning.
: So, what's the plan? Dylan Dog
: No plan. Just bigger guns.
: If I had another arm right now, I would hug you.