Wells: If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya. Because we're firing blanks doesn't mean we have to be thinking nice thoughts. So you remember, you keep the fire down, right, you get stuck in and you kick their fucking teeth out, or I guarantee you, Joe, they will be eating your bollocks for breakfast, sunshine.
Terry: Hard-boiled or fried, Sarge?
Cooper: Go on then Bruce, what scares you?
Bruce: The self-destructive nature of the human condition.
Spoon: You're just taking the piss now.
Cooper: What about you, Spoon?
Cooper: There's no argument there. Joe?
Joe: Only one thing guaranteed to put the shits up me: a penalty shoot-out.
Cooper: Figures. Terry?
Terry: Watching a penalty shoot-out... with Joe.
Bruce: What about you, Coop?
Cooper: Spiders. And women. And... spider-women.
Megan: What happened?
Spoon: What happened? We were attacked by huge fuckin' howlin' things, that's what.
Megan: Every month, when the moon is full, they hunt as a team. Dedicated to the kill. During that time, at least fifteen people have vanished. Hikers mostly. In small groups or alone. They're caught out in the open, hunted down, torn apart and devoured. I've never witness the actual slaughter, but the next day, no bodies, no werewolves, just blood.