Steve, I don't think I need to go into how counterproductive you with a machine gun would be.

[High margin of error, even if Steve knew how to shoot and correctly operate it. Two can verbally tango here, and Dustin's never been the type to not point out flaws in logic.

Another one bites the dust, this time from Dustin who severs the head off expertly with the sharper piece of his street debris.]

Milk gets blood out. The enzymes... they like to interact or something. They're shoes though- can you uh, I dunno, calm down?