This stopped the bullet, Harry.Robert Downey, Jr.: No, not really.—Kiss Kiss Bang Bang OKAY, GOD, really, you can take me home now.Hardie’s battered and broken and shot and burned and lacerated and cut and dizzy and sweating and bruised body lay in a glittering field of broken glass. There were no lights back here, but the moon was up, and the stars were out, and they provided a little bit of illumination. Hardie heard sirens off in the distance. Always coming. Never here. He supposed some of the Hunters’ Studio City neighbors had finally decided that all those popping noises weren’t firecrackers, and the screams weren’t screams of delight but rather terror, and they’d called 911.He closed his eyes. Might as well try this again. God, I’ve done it.I managed to screw up one set of lives, but I’ve replaced it with another. You were nudging me in this direction the whole time, only I was too stubborn to see it. I get it, now, Lord. We’re done, you and I. Even-Steven.
