Looks like I **** up your leg.
You're a shit driver.
Wrong side of the road.
Looks like I **** up your leg.
You're a shit driver.
Wrong side of the road.
Hey, what are you whittling?
A stick.
Yeah, but what's it gonna be?
A smaller stick.
Sheriff's Deputy: I'll tell 'em it was you.
Oh, okay! You know what though? There's a real possibility you won't remember any of this anyway.
Sheriff's Deputy: Wait, wait, what?
When you've been fighting as long as I have, you know the power of a concussion.
Sheriff's Deputy: Wait.
A real whack can really knock the short-term memory out of ya. Something about how it takes a memory a couple of minutes to get to the long-term part of your brain. I don't know. Anyway, you and I have only been talking for about a minute and a half.
Sheriff's Deputy: I don't understand.
Oh what's that over there? [Deputy looks away and Dalton hits him on the back of the head]
Sheriff's Deputy: Wait. You don't have to do this.
Oh.. I wish I didn't. But I'm angry. It takes a lot to get me angry, but when I am I just can't let go. I wish I could but your boss and Brandt really pissed me off.
A **** fishing spear?
I got a tip for you. Don't let no one get this close.
Nice place you got here. Peaceful.
You know, it's strange. Somebody else asked me if I was afraid today. I am afraid. I'm afraid of what happens when somebody pushes me too far. Somebody just like you. 'Cause I know what happens next.