Yeah, he's really hard to kill

Cliff:

So you were like Special Ops. What were you Seals? Rangers? Nick:
Officially, I'm only allowed to say that I've been a sworn officer participating in a phase of certain missions that would make most men want to crawl up and hide inside their own assholes. Cydney:
and unofficially? Nick:
I'm a goddamn American Jedi. Possible title number one, by the way. Nick:
Hey, see this? Took a frag from a Bouncing Betty. It's an antipersonnel mine. Caved in the back of my fucking head. Medevaced out to Germany. Got my skull rebuilt with space-age titanium. Can't go through a metal detector without ringing cherries, but that's cool. Let's me travel with Gilligan just about wherever I want. Cydney:
Gilligan? Nick:
My little buddy Cliff:
That's some toothpick Nick:
Here's the kicker, though. When I took that shrapnel, I never felt it. I mean, I felt the impact and I felt my backside go all wet, but no real pain. Now, maybe I don't recall the events in full. They did scoop out a little gray Spam back there, but get this. My wolf pack? They will swear that I was ambulatory for more than 17 minutes before they forced me to lie down. Tackled me. Even then I was looking to monkey-fuck a Marlboro Light. There's no nerve endings in the brain Cliff. Remember that when you write the scene. Cliff:
Yeah, there's some really good details there. Gina:
Yeah, he's really hard to kill