[There was a low, powerful laugh, a cruel, mocking rumble. Volgin licked his partially marred lips, his eyes trailing from the mush that was once a soldier's most precious organ to the face and its bloody "tears". His single arm grip adjusted, electricity threatening to keep him in place if he dared struggle.

Snake more resembled a doll. Such a shame: A worthy opponent now a limp, little toy he could shake about.]

Oh Vanya, Vanya... You broke it.

[A coy tilt of his head.]

Am I going to have to get you another one?