Johnson: Do I see trees? Oh, please tell me we're out of that gosh-awful town.
Garcia: Motherfucking shit on a stick!
Johnson: I thought we were done with him!
Garcia: Look at the size of this meat. What kind of creature has thighs like this?
Johnson: Maybe I should get its phone number.
Garcia: Fucking mind games! Paula, keep treading water, baby!
Johnson: Let's find that brain.
Garcia: Magnífico. A hand job.
Johnson: Let's head back to that gate.