His next request is going to be consigning the damned table to the back yard.

"Okay, fine. We're gonna have to age her up and pack her off to boarding school. Or do that there tragic death thing you mentioned. Or fucking kill the bitch ourselves...!" More firing... He does have some immunity to these creatures, but is still very unhappy about the contagious nature of the dust.

"Don't worry, I'll fix it, okay? After."