Logan: This is fucking insane! What the hell is this?! Jesus Christ, man.
Mike: Hurry it up. These fuckers are starting to stink. Hey, thank you. This should do it. By the way, I'm Mike. I got the bodies piled up outside. Guess we'd better do this.
Logan: Getting in shape.
Hank: Come over here, I've got a job for you. Hey, wait a sec!
Jack: Can somebody help me with this bloody door?
Logan: Anything good in here?
Jack: God damn it, somebody help me with the god damn door! Would you give me a hand here?
Hank: Come over here, I've got a job for you.
Mike: Some fucking vacation, huh? I can help you out, though. You need a weapon, I'm your guy. Bricks and baseball bats can only take you so far. Torch them! They burn real easy. Get yourselves a couple of Molotov cocktails and you can burn up a whole mob of those motherfuckers. You bring me a couple and I can make you a few cocktails, if you catch my drift?
Mike: Good. I'm going to need some empty whisky bottles. Vodka. Whatever. There should be some around here. You know, there's a better way to kill those things.