"Aliens," he repeats in a dubious tone. "Are you fuckin' serious?!"

This guy was clearly a nutjob, if his first instinct was to assume...whatever it is he just said. The Nestlé Consciousness? Then again, how the hell else are you supposed to explain the fact that a bunch of mannequins jumped to life? Robots were just as unlikely of an explanation, as is anything else that springs to his limited imagination.

He notes the stranger stepping behind him and scowls. He can hear the mannequins tapping against the linoleum tiles, drawing ever closer.

"Whatever. Fine. How do you kill them?" Which is the most important and pressing question at hand.