Well, then, you know, don't use a gun. Lay the place to waste like.
Guns for show, knifes for pro.
— Fuck me all, Tom! What's that?
— It's me belt, Turkish.
— No, Tommy, there's a gun in your trousers. What is a gun doing in your trousers?
— It's for protection!
— Protection from what? Zee Germans?