Terry reached for the last can of Spam only to have a stray bullet shoot it off the shelf.

I’d told humanity to go to Hell.

“Sir, did the rebels agree to surrender?”

“Nice weather we’re having,” he joked.

“They’re getting away!”

Something is creeping in the warehouse.

“I and my powers predate anything blessed by Yahweh.”

The barkeep squinted at the constable amid a demolished tavern.

“It’s all of them, Sir.”