Viggo Mortensen is one of the finest trained swordsmen in Hollywood.
“If not the Warren Beatty kind of swordsman,” he chuckles softly. “That’s who did this, though, isn’t it? Beatty?”
Rub the rope burns on your gasping throat and nod.
“Next time don’t mention old Pat.” Viggo Mortensen shrugs. “You couldn’t have known. But if you’re still breathing we must be only a few minutes behind him–did you see which way he went?”
Point. It doesn’t matter where.
Viggo Mortensen’s grin is a hungry teenage boy. “Not much longer, old man. Tally ho, Buckethead!”
Buckethead unsheathes his doubleneck and crows.