Kevyn: Hob, blow the dome. We have to get some fresh air in here now, or fifty amorphs die. We'll just have to take our chances with the tanks waiting outside.
Hob: Yes sir. Okay, mister primer. Strut your stuff!
SFX: Clik.
Kevyn: Maybe you've set my expectations too high, Hob. I was anticipating rather more noise.