Dude. You just saved me from like two dozen murder birds. You don't need to thank me for anything again, like, ever.

( Insisted somehow both mildly and emphatically. Maybe it's the gentle monotone that perpetually overlays his voice.

In any case, he goes about cleaning the blood out of Kyle's hair with the methodical nature of a man who has done this way too many times. When you have a best friend like Jerry who has a fetish for swords and shoulder-length hair, you get kind of good at weirdly specific stuff like this. )

Hey- why do you keep doing that, anyway?