"Oh, trust me, that's happened! 'Twas bloody hilarious, b'cause he first hit m'with a fuсkin' grenade, 'n y'know, shrapnel doesn't mix well with everyday clothes, 'n then he emptied a mag, but I was still standin' - on one dаmn leg - with m'guts hangin' out, half m'head blown off, 'n missin' more limbs than a quadriplegic, but I wouldn't fuсkon' the die, 'n the poor guy - I shit y'not - jus' fuсkin' gives up, pushes me over, 'n plops down on a chair."