Narrator: Elsewhere in the Phica fortress, a scene we've seen before.
Elf: This 'Phica' guy is paranoid even at home. He's surrounded by guards.
Tagon: All of whom have little training, light shell-armor and propellant weapons.
Elf: Okay, so he's surrounded by a moving layer of ablative meat.
Schlock: Cut it out. You're makin' me hungry.
Chamberlain: Tem Phica is on his way.
Narrator: Hopefully history will stop repeating itself before Charlie dances the Foxtrot.
Pranger: Relax, Commander. I know exactly what the worst thing is that could happen.
Kevyn: Since you're the one doing the happening in that scenario, I'm having a hard time relaxing.