[Tell that to the shrapnel back there by the car.]

I'll add it to the list.

[The ever growing list of items that might keep them alive for a little longer. He's getting really, really tired of digging in the trash, but all he can do is sigh, and look himself over.]

...

[His hands are singed, too. McCrane is going to be glad for the fireworks display, because otherwise me might start to get depressed. He doesn't like the idea of depression being in his emotions set.]

Can you tell me what they look like?