V: Doesn't it bother you?
Ozob: What?
V: The grenade. You know, the one on your face?
Ozob: Eh, you get used to it. I just gotta be carefull not to pull the pin when I wanna pick my nose.

Well, that way you'd kill two souls. Is that what you want?

Sometimes two people find themselves at the wrong place at the right time.

Hey, hermano. Your new life... it starts now.

Corpo or not, without chrome we all look like the same idiotic, bullet-riddled sacks of meat.