“Anyone in your family not a killer? (Syd)After this I’m beginning to wonder if I don’t have a serial mom. (Steele)I wish. She should have beaten you to death with a turkey leg. (Tina)”

“He’s out there waiting for us. We his the street, and we’re ducks in a barrel. (Steele)Isn’t that fish in a barrel? (Syd)Don’t fuck with my metaphors right now, Syd. Can’t you see that I’m under stress? (Steele)”

“I didn’t know they’d do this to you. (Syd)It’s okay, Syd. Who could have imagined that a man who heads up a company of paid assassins and mercenaries would be psychotic? (Steele)”

“You smoke? (Randy)Only when I’m on fire. (Steele)I don’t appreciate your humor, Mr. Steele. (Randy)I’m an acquired taste. (Steele)”

“Where’s he shooting from? (Syd)I don’t know. You want to go look out the window and tell me the answer? (Steele)”

“Oh, my God, are you okay? (Syd)You ever nick yourself while shaving? (Steele)Yeah. (Syd)You know the burn you get that hurts like hell? (Steele)Yeah. (Syd)This is nothing like that. It’s a lot worse. (Steele)”

“Look, I don’t care what the Ooga-Boogas do. It sounds like they need a family counselor, not a sniper. (Steele)They’re not Ooga-Boogas, they’re Uhbukistanis. (Syd)Whatever. My personal belief is that we should leave Ooga-Booga Land to the Oomp-Loompas. Let them fight it out with the Snozzwangers, Wangdoogles, and the mean Vermicious Knids. I’d rather go peal carrots with a spoon. (Steele)”