[Dixon's pretty sure he's still getting gibberish, because now the talking monkey is rambling about beetles. Maybe getting kicked in the head the other night knocked something loose in his brain.
He's not so disoriented that he can't tell when a sword is pointed at him, though, and he brings his arm with the shield up. By now, incredulity is starting to give way to panic. He shouts at her with a tone he's never quite mastered, the 'stand down and put your hands up' kind of command.]
How should I know? I don't even know where the hell I am! Put the fucking sword down!
[Having someone angry and desperate point a weapon at you has a way of focusing your mind. It doesn't even really matter anymore that this place doesn't make sense or that his foe is a giant monkey. What matters is somehow getting some kind of control of the situation.]
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He's not so disoriented that he can't tell when a sword is pointed at him, though, and he brings his arm with the shield up. By now, incredulity is starting to give way to panic. He shouts at her with a tone he's never quite mastered, the 'stand down and put your hands up' kind of command.]
How should I know? I don't even know where the hell I am! Put the fucking sword down!
[Having someone angry and desperate point a weapon at you has a way of focusing your mind. It doesn't even really matter anymore that this place doesn't make sense or that his foe is a giant monkey. What matters is somehow getting some kind of control of the situation.]