Den we don' tell him we know his darkest, fluffiest secret. Dat'll buy us de time t'think of a even more fearsome weapon.
After all de experiences, and comin' out here t'where we ain't always on de run and hated, where we can live amongst dem like we asked,... yet we look for and crave people wit' similar states of mind. Poetic irony can shove it.
Ay yi yi dat was too maudlin, no? Ruins de devil-may-care image.