Cowboy Bebop -

Spike pulls a fresh cigarette from his pocket and strikes a match. The flame flickers in his mismatched eyes—one seeing the present, the other trapped in the past.

Gunfire shatters the tequila bottles. Spike is a blur of motion, his Jericho 941 barking in the dim light. He moves with a fluid, effortless grace, dodging bullets like they’re nothing more than annoying flies. Cowboy Bebop

Faye looks at him, her eyes uncharacteristically gentle. "You look like you saw a ghost, Spike." Spike pulls a fresh cigarette from his pocket

Spike sighs, the sound of a man who’s already lived through this day a thousand times. "Tijuana? It’s a dust bowl." Spike is a blur of motion, his Jericho

Back on the Bebop , the crew is eating a watery stew. No beef. No peppers. "Did you get him?" Jet asks, his voice soft.