Sharkey: What the fuck is this?
Frank McBain: Your worst nightmare, Butt-horn.
Pappas: Listen you snot-nose little shit, I was takin' shrapnel in Khe Sanh when you were crappin' in your hands and rubbin' it on your face.
Peter Keyes: It's taken us over two weeks to learn his patterns. He comes here every two days to feed. Seems he has a taste for beef.
Lieutenant Mike Harrigan: I didn't think he was a vegetarian.
Peter Keyes: Well, we've prepared a trap for this predator.
Uncle Red: Where's your Mom?
Marty Coslaw: She and Dad are out back lighting the barbeque, yeah, and Jane's walking around in all these new clothes showing off her tits, acting like no-one ever had tits before her.
Uncle Red: I mean, uh, what the heck you gonna shoot a .44 bullet at anyway... made out of silver?
Mac: How about a werewolf?
Uncle Red: You wanna know what I think?
Marty Coslaw: No, we just called you out here to admire your pretty little face.
Uncle Red: You better watch your mouth, right now. You're on thin ice with me, son.
Marty Coslaw: You know who used to have a baseball bat like that? Mr. Knopfler.
Uncle Red: So?
Jane Coslaw: It looked like Bigfoot had used it for a toothpick.
William Strannix: You're a maniac. Drown your own crew.
Commander Krill: They never liked me anyway.
Doumer: I bet they fuckin' love ya now, huh?
William Strannix: I would like to see the ship's personnel file on this plain and simple cook, Mister Krill.
Commander Krill: Yes, sir.
William Strannix: PUT OUT THESE GODDAMN FIRES!
Commander Krill: I've put up with a lot of your shit just because the captain likes your cooking, but this time, he's not going to be here to save your butt.
