“Damnit, Raymond…” The Sniper groaned, “Isn’t that the sort of shit you’d made the recruits do?”
"Mm. I would, if you know, someone else’s Zombie brother put the head on my desk."
Norman: “…Do I want to know?”
"…Clean off the Luchadore I have on my desk."
“Why the hell are you doing paper work?”
"…Because I need to keep this gang afloat. Gotta make contracts and deals, sugarplum."
"All this fucking paperwork—
Don’t I have, I dunno, more pressing matters? Jesus Christ…”