Liquor:
Ah, Fitz. It's just what I thought.
Mouse 'Fitz' Fitzgerald:
What? What is it that you thought?
Liquor:
Hand Brain.
Mouse 'Fitz' Fitzgerald:
What's it want?
Liquor:
Uh, let me ask it.
[Liquor text the severed hand and the severed hand texted him sign-hand massages]
Liquor:
He wants to get back to his arm and kill that separated him.
Mouse 'Fitz' Fitzgerald:
And how do you propose we do that?
Liquor:
We follow him to a secret place.
[Fitz points the gun at Liquor]
Liquor:
Oh, hello! That's my neck.
Mouse 'Fitz' Fitzgerald:
How do I know you know what he's typing?
Liquor:
How do you not know I don't?
[Fitz points another gun at him]
Mouse 'Fitz' Fitzgerald:
You've been funny for a while, is all.
Liquor:
Oh, did you catch my comedy act?
Mouse 'Fitz' Fitzgerald:
No. Was it good?
Liquor:
Dude, it was the shizzle.
Mouse 'Fitz' Fitzgerald:
You know a lot. And more than that.
Liquor:
Um, why don't you pull that gun out of my food shoot and I'll get us both back home.