I am composed of the deadliest angles known to humanity. [His glasses, his hair. Not his sword, who cares about that. He is the deadly pointy anime man. It's him.

Without even glancing up at Rose from his work, he decides to be helpful.] The ploughman is working on some fertile fields. He is driving in with dedication, sowing his oats far and wide across the suspiciously Flanders-like Greek countryside. En de boer hij ploegde voort, Rose. En de boer hij ploegde voort.