If planting bombs net enough, what can you do? You become bomb.

The wind whistling through boarded-up windows. Tumbleweeds scratching across dry, sandy tracks. That's how towns die. Not with a bang, but with whispers and whimpers.

V: What is the sound of one hand clapping?
Zen Master: That depends - is someone clapping with you?

V: Bug, ya could at least try to be... nice.
T-Bug: You want nice, supportive? Call a damn helpline.

Once upon a time, people were talking to graves and nobody batted an eyelid, right?