“What do you think? Sabbath maybe?”
The younger man was scrolling through his iPod library, one earbud in, one dangling down his chest.
“What? I don’t know. Would you get ready, they’re coming!”
“I’m ready, I’m ready.” He gestured towards the rifle propped up next to him. “But I gotta have tunes, man. This shit needs a soundtrack. Metallica? Naw, too obvious.”
“You’re gonna get eaten. One of them is going to come up behind you, and you’re not going to hear because you’ve got earbuds in, and you’re going to get eaten. And I’m going to laugh.”
“Whatever. Motorhead?”
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