Doc Venture: You don’t know me. Why in my prime I saw some things that would make your head spin!
Sgt. Hatred: Yeah, I’ve seen a guys head spin, like right off his neck. Why? ‘Cuz I punched him. Top That!
Doc Venture: Okay, okay… My father made me kill a man- kill a man! -with a house key. I was ten.
Sgt. Hatred: That’s nothing. I ate a whole Labrador retriever once! I’m serious!
The Cleaner: Well, this is as far as I go. There’s a rental car waiting for ya, quarter-mile south of here. Keys and a new I.D. in the glove box, Cochise. Good luck to ya, man.
Brock: Yeah, I uh… I only got one problem with that plan… Hank never called you! (draws out his knife and places it against the Cleaners neck.)
Brock: Well, I gotta admit for a disguise, it’s pretty good. Hardly recognized ya.
Molotov: Wha-what dis… I’m off duty.
Brock: Haha. That’s-That’s how you dress when you’re not catwomaning around?! I may have to rethink this whole relationship.
Hank: Who is that hoodrat Brock’s talking to? He can get any shorty he wants!