trap

they're just through that line of trees, boys. waiting for us.
who are, sir?
those slimy disgusting omnipods, son. trying to take what's ours. turn us into meat cakes.
what're we gonna do, sir?
we're gonna give 'em what they want.
what's that, sir?
us.
huh?
we set the table for 'em. show them something they can't resist. then when they take the bait, we pounce.
how sir?
with everything we've got, boy. burn 'em to hell, so's there's nothing left for their mamas.
they have mamas, sir?
I don't really care, son. not a big concern.