You're hostages, we're your, your captors we're heavily armed there's rules, there's a whole school of etiquette to this. Don't eyeball me.
"Look at you, thinking you're the big savior fighting for truth, justice, and soccer moms. But you still can't lay flesh on a cross without smelling like bacon, can you?"
"That's your flight. I suggest you board quickly. With luck, they may never find you, but if they do, you will know pain-" "-and you will know fear-" "-and then you will die. Have a pleasant flight."
"What are you, some kind of a nut that likes to see people die?" "Yes, it's such a marvelous contrast to my own splendid health."
"My CONDITION is not an issue! I've lived with it for four years, it's never kept me from doing anything!" "Look, unfortunately, it is an issue for our insurance company. I can't keep the bus waiting any longer. It isn't fair to the other people." "Hey, don't talk to me about FAIR!" "I can get you on a plane back to Sydney on our dime. That's the best I can do." "No, I don't want to go back to Sydney. Look, I've been preparing for this for years. Just put me on the bus, right now. I can do this." "No... you can't." "Hey! HEY! Don't you walk away from me! You don't know who you're dealing with! Don't ever tell me what I can't do, ever! This is destiny. This is destiny. This is my destiny. I'M SUPPOSED TO DO THIS, DAMMIT! DON'T TELL ME WHAT I CAN'T DO! DON'T TELL ME WHAT I CAN'T DO!!"