GT: Well shit!
TT: I'm afraid I have to conclude this dire and troubling development with a little less than one minute's banter away from your grim procession of canine corpses.
TT: Are you ordering me to shove it up your ass, sir?
GT: What??
TT: I think you'll smash that stupid furry weaver of yours.
GT: Oh man.
GT: Slash it?
TT: I need some help.
TT: Slash it.
GT: What, the last one?
TT: The last one!