Emil Fouchon: I'll fuck you, then I'll eat you.
Randal Poe: Well, if it ain't my good friend Boudreaux. I thought you was gonna catch a ship.
Chance Boudreaux: Maybe I'll stick around to run for mayor.
Chance Boudreaux: Hunting season... is over.
Pik van Cleef: It appears your trophy is ripping us a new orifice.
Emil Fouchon: Let me review the tactical situation for you, gentlemen. Boudreaux is wounded. He's been pursued and harried across miles of open country. Now he's cornered and outnumbered 20 to 1. He's an annoying little fucking insect and I want him stepped on hard.
Emil Fouchon: There's always some unhappy corner of the globe where we can ply our trade.
Chance Boudreaux: Grab the bar.
Chance Boudreaux: Now take your pig-stick and your boyfriend, and find a bus to catch.
Chance Boudreaux: Do you still have the 30.06... the one I gave you for your birthday?
Douvee: No... a gator ate it. But I still got your shot-gun.
Douvee: Ooh-wee! Ha ha! Sometimes I 'maze myself! Good whiskey make jackrabbit slap de bear.
Pik van Cleef: Randal, I come back here, I cut me a steak.
Chance Boudreaux: If you understand me, just grunt.
Chance Boudreaux: Hey, pigeon.