That's a big question now, isn't it? I have a dream... most nights. It starts on a playground; there's kids, you know swinging, laughing. Dogs barking, butterflies flapping their wings. And then you hear a rumbling. And over the horizon comes a black cloud. And it's made of cancer. And pus. And it starts sweeping over the playground and everyone starts screaming and clawing their eyes, pulling at their hair and saying "Help! What do we do?!" You know what happens next? Out steps me, wielding the biggest fucking shotgun you've ever seen in your life, and you know what I do? I blow "every-fucking-thing" away. I am getting God's work done. When the whole thing is over and the dust has settled, the whole world gathers below me, and they say "Thank you, Ronnie, thank you for helping, being a great man, and doing this for us!" And you know what I say? "You don't need to thank me. I'm just a guy with a gun. I'm just a cop." (Observe and Report)