Halloween con el Dyspepsi-Cola y Cloaca-Cola Uniform

McDonald, the 105-year-old Cloaca-Cola Veteran

Dyspepsi is on the march again! Dammit, Martha, fetch me my bow! You just clear out of here, you whippersnapper, or I'll fill you so full of arrows they'll use your body as a coat rack! You won the war, dammit, why do you keep comin' around my house? Get offa my lawn! Take this! Consarn it, I forgot to pull the pin. Martha, where's my bow? And when's jello?

You acquire an item: Cloaca grenade

Jackson, the 106-year-old Dyspepsi-Cola Veteran

Well, now! Back for more, eh? Well, sonny, I beat you eighty-five years ago and I'll beat you again. Just you wait while I fetch my sword. Did you know, in the war, we couldn't even get toffee? Yup, toffee was rationed. There were days when I would have gladly killed a man for a piece of toffee. Couldn't get no limes, either. Dyspepsi's Navy needed 'em. Wards off scurvy, y'know. I remember the posters they used to have: "If You're Eating Toffee, You're Aiding Cloaca-Cola!", "The Road to Hell is Paved with Limes and Toffee!"

Wait, what was I talking about, whippersnapper? Oh, yeah. I was about to kill you, wasn't I? Take this! Dangit, I forgot to pull the pin. Anyway, back in my days in the Dyspepsi-Cola Infantry, we... zzzzzz...

You acquire an item: Dyspepsi grenade