[to Max]
Actually... this is all just a bad dream. You're home in bed. Heavily sedated, resting comfortably, and dying from the noxious pollutants you've personally spewed in a lifetime of profiteering. Tragic irony, or poetic justice? You tell me.
[to Max]
Actually... this is all just a bad dream. You're home in bed. Heavily sedated, resting comfortably, and dying from the noxious pollutants you've personally spewed in a lifetime of profiteering. Tragic irony, or poetic justice? You tell me.