[Allan aims his elephant gun at a fleeing assassin]
Sanderson Reed:
But he's so far away.
[Allan lowers the gun with a grunt of frustration]
Sanderson Reed:
Yes, I thought he was.
[Allan puts on a pair of glasses]
Allan Quartermain:
God, I hate getting old.
[He aims the rifle and fires. In the far distance, the assassin goes down. Reed gapes]
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 08:22