Quint You got city hands, Hooper... 'been countin' money all your life. Quint Front - bow, back - stern. Don`t get it get it right squirt 'n' I'll throw your ass out the little round window on the side. Come on Chief, this ain't no Boy Scout picnic... I see you got your rubbers ! Quint Break it up, will ya, Chief. Daylight's wasting...Come on, Chief. This isn't no Boy Scout picnic. See you got your rubbers! Ha, ha, ha.