Disclaimer: Well, I have no clue who this belongs to, but it is most certainly not me.
"Tojo Blades?" the man asked his friend.
"Broken." the friar answered.
"Crossbow?"
"No arrows."
"Silver Bullets?"
"You're last werewolf has them."
"Crosses?" VanHelsing asked, getting a little desperate.
"Got it."
Carl crossed the room carrying a box filled with crosses and other crucifixes. He tripped over a broken arrow and the box went flying, scattering the Holy relics all over the lab. He picked himself up and cleared his throat.
"Don't got it."
Yup. Thats it.