Who are you? Charles Xavier's twin, Cassandra Nova. Bullshit. I was an anal birth. Hmph.
You two are cute. I have a good feeling about this. And I've been trying to catch this little firefly for years.
Haven't I, Johnny? No. You picked the wrong time to make new friends. Oh, Johnny told us all about you. Maybe shut up now.
Yeah, maybe don't. We're just talking here. Yeah, Johnny told us you're a psychotic.
Megalomaniacal asshole, his words not mine, hell-bent on domination and pain. You said all that about me. No! No!
I didn't say any of that! It's in stones, Johnny! Now let her intimidate you.
Like you said in the convoy. This finger-lickin'dead inside pixie slab of third-rate dime store nut milk can eat your delicious cinnamon ring and kick rocks all the way to bald hell. I have never said- any of those words in my entire life. The modesty. People think I'm a shit talker, but this guy?
Next level. What? This... I... Wait... I don't even know what half of that means!
This... I... My hat's off to you, sir. Truly. What? This...
I didn't... He's... That's... I... I... I... I don't... Not my favorite Chris.
You stupid piece of shit. You just got him fucking killed. Hey! We're all grieving!