If looks could kill, Galen would be on fire with his face melted off and a billion knives sticking out of his chest while a bear busts through the door to bite off his head. Except she can't keep it up and she pulls her hood up, turning away and curling up in the chair so he can't see her smiling. Don't laugh. Do not laugh! Son of a bitch.

"This would be the part where I do a highly-experimental, sledgehammer drum solo on your face, but that would mean I have to get up. You're lucky, Howard. This time." It's not that foreboding and intimidating when you're trying not to giggle like a dumbass, Kenzi. Stupid Galen! Stupid motherfucking headache! "Feels like I got hit by the cheap vodka truck, rolled over the side of a mountain, and slept it off in a ditch."