Man, CAPT Tom Chandler and others in “Unfinished Business”

[in Italians] Next, hands. Give me your hands.

CAPT Tom Chandler

I'm good.

Oh, you speak English, huh? Give me your hands. I'm gonna wrap 'em. You seem pretty calm for a guy facing death.

I've faced worse.

Oh, a warrior, huh? Yeah. Well, I've had my fill of warriors.

You picked a funny profession.

What, this? Oh, this is just a side gig, man. Here, they call me Il Dottore.

You're a doctor?

Philosophy. Everybody needs a philosopher, right? Especially now, this End of Days shit.

And you just hand out wisdom?

Indeed, I do. And here's your dose for today, man. Every single civilization since man walked out of a cave... Greece, Rome, Vikings, Asia, Aztecs, Africa... It's been ravaged and then decimated and devoured by the same set of fangs, and it ain't famine or plague or even war, in all of its lame excuse. It's the urge, man. The urge. Always dormant in our primordial brains, waiting like an arched leopard to pounce and butcher whatever the hell it smells for its own gratification. Did you know the leopard and the house cat are the only two animals besides man who kill for sport? For sport, man. Just for the buzz of bloodletting. Violence is an urge, brother. It's our urge. And if it were up to me, I'd cry havoc, slip the dogs of war back on the leash. Get 'em back protecting the sheep. Know what I'm saying?

Then who's the shepherd?

So you're a philosopher, too. [takes hand wraps and puts on some powder] Little herbal concoction. Get a little of this in the other guy's eyes... Poof, fight's over. If you gotta go to war, make it quick. [Snaps fingers] Bocca lupo. You know what that means?

Into the wolf's mouth.

Right on. Good luck.