You're tellin' me. One day I was eight, and then three months later I was a foot taller and thirty pounds heavier. [ it's as close to the sun as he's willing to fly without a cigarette and a handle of something that burns on the way in, but maybe Vash deserves that much after all of Wolfwood putting the blond's business all over hell and half of Augusta. ]

Ain't half bad. I don't know how you managed to get lucky enough to get a place like that, but damn, Blondie, whoever handles your normal luck must've been asleep at the wheel that day. [ part of him loves the garden. the bounty, the plenty, the sweet air and the soft grass and the food that's so tender and fresh that you can eat it from the vine, from the soil--the boys who grew up with nothing but artificial replicas that cost blood, sweat, and tears really have found paradise.

suck it, Knives. nobody even had to die for it, probably.

he leans in to look at Vash's phone when he pulls up an example image, giving a laugh that just grows. more incredulous as he thinks about it. ]

How did you have a gunfight with that, Blondie! Lookit their arms! Their little, little arms!