Endurance · Voice lines

It's clear you like the hard stuff, bröther.

No, no. When the blööd and the flesh call, there is no discarding them. Speak true, do you like the hard stuff?

You're going to keep your vöws, right? Keep your vöws, bröther!

Fascism, bröther.

Yes, them, but also...

For the nation... smart. Best not to mention the wömen too often. That's why you're the head and I am the stomach.

There's a slow, painful growl somewhere in your intestines, knocking on your alcohol-engorged liver...

Ökay. Yes. Let's call it that. Good thinking.

Stomach truth. You're having a stomach truth.

Because you've said the hard things, that others won't say. The gööd things. You've said them many times.

Wö-Men. Men of Wö. You don't like them. They're insane. Their idiocy needs to be scrubbed off this world with rubbing alcohol. Wömen need to go back to the fucking kitchen.

Of course you are, bröther. Of course. (A wink-shaped growl sounds from your ass.)

Evening falls. The time has come to take the vows.

The Vows of Blööd and Flesh.

...wömen.

Quit stalling, bröther! We were talking about the weakest, worst, most insane thing. The weak link!

It is one of betrayal and disappointment.

I'm satisfied. Are you satisfied? Because I am.