It won't succeed. [ He holds his mug up as if he were raising a bottle of beer in a toast to the heavens, his head dipped slightly to match.

Then he drinks the last of his tea, sparing Cable's gun a glance, and then looking up at him with a slight raise of his eyebrows. ] But this internal bleeding shit might.

You get some rest today. [ His tone's firm. ] You already fixed your gun.

And when you're feeling better I'll take you to where you can make your bullets.

[ Even if by the fifth everyone's going to fall asleep and the town will turn to plastic when they wake. ]