Shrike: Oye, conejo tuerto.

Geronimo: I take it I’m the tuerto. What’s up?

Shrike: You’re a galactic officer, right?

Geronimo: Well, more of a freelance ranger.

Shrike: But you have trained to be one, you’ve ever worked for LAW?

Geronimo: Well, I did try out for enrollment, but it was already off to a rocky start.

Shrike: Sounds like you already had it worse than me.

Geronimo: Yeah, the officers I worked with were fans of those funny animal cartoons, and every time they pass me by,

they kept saying “what’s up doc?” every time.

Shrike: That can’t be the reason why you quit the force, is it?

Geronimo: No, it got serious, one time one of them was speaking like a 5-year-old, walking to me at gunpoint, and declaring “wabbit season”. I figured they were referring to me, so I jumped at ‘em by surprise, biting off one of the damn weasel’s fingers off, and ‘bout then I was reported and kicked out.

Shrike: Maldito, I knew they would be jerks, but didn’t’ think they had the coraje to try to shoot you.

Geronimo: Shoot me? I wasn’t mad at that. I was made because they called me a rabbit. Those blind dingbats didn’t see the antlers that were poking out of my head.

Shrike: Oh, so that’s what those are! I thought they were part of your hat. So you’re not a rabbit?

Geronimo: I’m a jackalope.

Shrike: So you’re a deer?