"WHOA!! "

"HEY!! Red man...
You look like the devil.
Where ya goin' ???
What's ya hurry???
What's up with that gun.???"

"This ain't no gun.
This is my pitchfork."

"Oooo? That ain't what I see. Well...
What's up with the pitchfork, dude?"

"None ya business, rude."

"It is too my business...
How do I know you ain't going to my crib?"

"Is that your invitation?"

"Remind me to laff...
You'd better not be going to my crib."

"Where would you rather I go?"

"As far as I'm concerned...
You can go to hell."

"Oh that's where I'm coming from.
The devil kicked me out.
Told me to come back to the world...

AND RAISE MY OWN HELL."

"Oooooo! So that's what all the shootings
Now-a-days are all about."

"Indubitably, chap, indubitably.
Fact about it...that's not to be doubted."

"Well you ain't getting very far...
'CAUSE NOW WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE."