one minute he's nervously sitting in the chopper as it hovers over the flaming battlefield, the next he's emerging from the jungle weeks later wearing a shark's skull made from the blown barrel of a tank he took down with his bare hands.
eyes glazed over, heart lost somewhere in the fight and down to the last pack of smokes; yeah, you could call him changed.
holy shit. a custom jaws from the hand of dril one. like a rusty nail in the sole of your foot, slowly leaching tetanus up to your heart; you can't just walk this one off. he nailed it, i mean drilled it, i mean... fuck it, it just fucking rules. the mangled metal, endless rivets, ninja face mask... the addition of pants!
this is how it's done kids.
this is who rambo has nightmares about.
why you got so many nipples?
[famous last words before your brain exploded on the wall]
must have taken a bunker buster to get through that pec...
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