"Oh, for sure 't is. I ain't slowed by armour 'n I can jus' use m'own body as a weapon, 'n 'tis great. It's like... when y'get shot fifty times, they expect ya t'fall, eh? So if y'don't, 't gets pretty fuсkin' freaky 'cause y're jus' bleedin' with your body blow apart, but y're still fuсkin' standin'."
"Freaky would be an understatement. I can just imagine some jackass screaming 'Why won't you fućking die?' or some shit like that. It'd be fućking comical."
"Oh, trust me, that's happened! 'Twas bloody hilarious, b'cause he first hit m'with a fuсkin' grenade, 'n y'know, shrapnel doesn't mix well with everyday clothes, 'n then he emptied a mag, but I was still standin' - on one dаmn leg - with m'guts hangin' out, half m'head blown off, 'n missin' more limbs than a quadriplegic, but I wouldn't fuсkon' the die, 'n the poor guy - I shit y'not - jus' fuсkin' gives up, pushes me over, 'n plops down on a chair."
"I'd consider a day where a science fare experiment gone wrong comes in 'n breaks your shit 'n kills your friends is pretty bad, t'be honest," [i]Hel responded with a quiet laugh, her fingers left to absentmindedly tap on the table as she had finished her coffee.[/i]
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