"My beautiful bitchtits sister, you've GOT THE RIGHT OF THAT. Got to be kicking the murder of these invading motherfuckers what fierce."

He steps closer, totally unafraid, laughing and honking and completely unaware of what few injuries he has and the purple blood that drips from them. He feels good, and in a strange way almost at peace. Instincts are sated and the voices in his head aren't urging him to kill, because he already is.