[after explaining the game]

The first one there, keeps it all! Oh, by the way, I put little tracking devices on your key rings so I'll always know where you are and...that's it! Go.

Y-You can't just pick people at random!

I can do anything I like, Owen! I'm eccentric! [Growls] Go!

Wait. So, it's like a race? [Sinclair points to him with an "Ah-ha!" expression]

A race! It's a race! I hope I win!

Uh, what are the rules?

There's only one rule. Are you ready? Here it is: There are, no rules! Go! [Nobody moves] Go!!

So, when you say "go", you mean, just go?

Uh, begin, commence, start moving, [looks at his watch] theoretically you have been racing for about forty-five seconds now, and so far Mr. Schaffer is winning because he's nearest to the door.
[Everyone continues staring at Sinclair, visibly confused. Finally, he sighs in frustration, pulls out a revolver, and fires it into the ceiling.]