Horace Pinker: Come on, boy, let's take a ride in my Volts Wagon.
Horace Pinker: This BarcaLounger's gonna kick your ass, boy.
Jonathan Parker: We can't go killing people just to get Pinker out of their bodies.
Lt. Don Parker: It smells like the goddamn electric chair in here.
Horace Pinker: I eat this wimp's will power for breakfast, John-bo.
Lt. Don Parker: You on drugs or what?
Horace Pinker: Come to look death in the face, huh schoolboy?
Horace Pinker: You like killing too, huh? There's nothing about it. We're killers.
Lt. Don Parker: This is screwball beyond belief.
Lt. Don Parker: Jesus. That chair really kicks ass.
Horace Pinker: Ahh, my kind of town.
