Oswald Imposter: Why don't you take a flying screw at the moon and charge it to me?
Foster: Ah well, it's only over. And there'll be nothing can we call our own but death. That small model of the barren earth which serves as paste and cover to our bones. For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground and tell sad stories of the death of kings.
Chris: Yeah, I got his rifle. It's a 6.5 millimeter Italian Carcano. It shoots high and to the left, and the bolt sticks. Christ, the Italians quit makin' these 25 years ago! They called it "The rifle that never hurt anyone... on purpose!"