Dylan Dog: Dead of Night

Vargas:
The human race is obsolete, y'all.

Marcus:
Oh, my God! What's wrong with my arm? Dylan, what's wrong with my arm? What happened?

Dylan Dog:
Relax. It's a loaner.

Marcus:
A loaner?

Dylan Dog:
Yes. They were out of Caucasian in your size.

Dylan Dog:
See? That's just what this case needed. A seven-foot tall, flesh-eating zombie. Which begs the question, are there any actual people left in New Orleans?

Marcus:
I guess we could just talk about the location of the flesh-eating zombie when you guys are done boning.

Marcus:
So, what's the plan?

Dylan Dog:
No plan. Just bigger guns.

Marcus:
If I had another arm right now, I would hug you.

Dylan:
There's more than one way to die. Your heart can go on ticking, but sometime that’s just for show.

(Dylan is woken up by a sound of a gun being cocked.)

Man with a gun:
You think you can just ruin peopIe's Iives and get away with it?

Dylan:
You cocked the gun too early.

Men:
What?

Dylan:
Shove a gun in somebody's face, that's shock enough. You want to save the gun-cocking till later. In case the gun itself doesn't put enough fear into the guy. You've already done that. Now what do you do? Shake it at me?

(Man shakes the gun at Dylan.)

Dylan:
See? Hardly effective, right?

Marcus:
I'm sorry, there's a revolution going on, DyIan. It’s called digital, all right? There are certain parts of the world that consider film kind of old.

Dylan:
Sounds like paradise.

(Dylan is using some antique tools.)

Elizabeth:
Fascinating. It's very high-tech.

Dylan:
Undead investigation is old-school.

Dylan:
The thing about werewolves is that they don't take too well at being accused of murder. Especially the ones they commit.

Dylan:
Do you want the good news or the bad news first?

Marcus:
The good. The bad.

Dylan:
Okay. The bad news is that you’re dead.

Marcus (laughing):
That’s funny. You’re funny. So what’s the good news then?

Dylan:
The good news is that the condition is manageable.