I don't know why you died, Goldie. I don't know why and I don't know how. I never even met you before tonight. But you were a friend and more when I needed one. And when I find out who did it, it won't be quick and quiet like it was with you. It'll be loud and nasty - my kind of kill. And when his eyes go dead, the hell I send him to will seem like heaven after what I've done to him. I love you, Goldie.
Most people think Marv is crazy. He just had the rotten luck of being born in the wrong century. He’d be right at home on some ancient battlefield swinging an axe into somebody’s face. Or in a Roman arena, taking his sword to other gladiators like him. They would’ve tossed him girls like Nancy back then.