Dexter Grif's Enhanced Scale of Shitstorm Severity is composed of three categories. You know. It's all highly scientific.

York comes to Connie with a devious scheme. This can't possibly bode well for anyone involved.

"Tell me this isn't a cliché scenario! We're trapped down here alone in enemy territory with no hope of rescue. And I'm mortally wounded." "You twisted your ankle, York."

The soldier standing next to Simmons takes a couple seconds to fall, like he doesn't quite realize he's already dead. Wash can relate.

Doc was pretty sure he was just grumpy because he needed a nap and a snack, and maybe a little less existential angst in his diet. Set during season 8.