"Da, Comrade Commissar," A marine barked, leveling his rifle at Craw. "Move along, Applicant!" They coaxed him towards a loading bay, where a shirtless man who could only be described as 'The Heavy' was standing. In one hand he held a baseball bat; in the other, a bottle of vodka that was half-full.
He looked at poor Craw, holding a large grin on his face. "You are so small! Is funny to me!" He said in a slurred voice then ended with drunken laughter. Before the man could reply, the baseball bat connected with his chest, sending him back ten feet.
"CRY SOME MORE!" Boris screamed, charging with vodka bottle and bat in hand, raised like some sort of medieval weaponry. With a loud crack, the bat came down on his leg, snapping it like a twig. Again, the bat came down, snapping his other leg. With an earsplitting shatter, the vodka bottle was broken against his back.
Wiping his forehead, Boris stepped back, surveying his work. The man was not dead, only in a living hell. "Will he live?" Pasha, standing behind Boris, asked.
"Da, Comrade. Take him to Igor. Our doctor, is best doctor," Boris chided, wiping the blood stains from his bat.
"THE HULL HAS BEEN BREACHED AND THESCIENCEIS LEAKING OUT!"