Ozvegan Ryk: Yo, Griz, you paged?
Ozvegan Griz: Yeah. We're ready to haul the deceased back to the lab.
Ozvegan Ryk: Whoa... That's some burn.
Ozvegan Griz: Plasma cannon. Though-and-though, plus two bulkheads.
Sign: -othing to see here, fo-
Ozvegan Griz: Our victim also lost one of his three arms to it. He might have put his arm up in defense.
Ozvegan Ryk: I, uh.. I had charburger nuggets for lunch, Griz.
Ozvegan Griz: If you need to take a call on the porcelain phone, take it outside.