Monkeys. I'm pretty sure. With a sword. [There's something kind of glassy by the way Dixon's saying that, even as he's the one relaying the information. Like the sheer weirdness of his words sunk in earlier, but now they've been shoved back out and it's just something happening to other people in some work of fiction. It's been a long few hours. The mind can only handle so much and work so fast as it processes.]

There's something like eight of us here already, if you count the monkey, which I'm not sure I do. I wouldn't if it weren't speaking English at me. [Well, speaking something that eventually Dixon could understand, and since English is the only language he even has a halfway grip on he's going with that assumption.] Maybe one of them can give you a jacket or something.

[He furrows his brow at the kid's attire. It takes him a moment to put the joke in the shirt together, and then he kind of rolls his eyes. Kid probably got it from his daddy or something. He'll say something about it later.]

Look, you familiar with the Wizard of Oz? Because I don't remember much about it and it seems to be a theme here.