"You certainly know your own species, cocksucker," Nick muttered, completely flabbergasted. The weird part was that this information was actually mildly useful, if it applied to the bugs. He hadn't even begun to consider the prospect of their reproduction. What would that mean for all of this? Christ. "They're over seven feet tall, Hammer. Sigourney Weaver and a can of bug spray aren't going to do much fucking damage." Nick could actually see how Hammer was a good salesman, he was a talker. He had charisma. He was just really fucking annoying.