Reaper

Sock: Are you scared? Ben: Does is show? Sock: You're kinda hurting my arm... Ben: Oh. (lets go of Sock) Sock: You've got some nails on you, man.

Sock: God, do we have to talk to Russ? Guy gives me the skeeves. Sam: Yes. Yes, we do. But remember, we are all business. You show any signs of friendship to Russ and it's like feeding a raccoon. We'll never get rid of him. Sock: Ah, you hear that, Ben? Ben: Oh, wh... Sock: No, listen to me. None of this, my name's Ben. I like everybody. Let's be blood brothers, okay? I do not want to hang out with this guy. He's extra-strength douche.

Holly: Tell me how to set Kit free, or I will torch this whole place, and there will only be one of us getting out of here alive. Sock: Which one of us?

Sam: I couldn't figure out why you kept throwing Taylor in my path. It's not because you really care about me. The Devil: Hey! Untrue. Sam: It's because you're tempting me...again! You just want me to be more like you. But I'm not! I don't believe there's no such thing as love, and you know what? I don't believe that you believe that. The Devil: Wow. You know, celibacy really makes you insightful. Sam: Come on. You've been around since the dawn of time. Are you telling me you've never been in love? The Devil: Well, personally, I've always found lust to be quite satisfying. Sam: (scoffs) Yeah. You would. (leaves)

Ben: Damn. We look good. Sock: I'm thinking of touching myself. Sam: Not in my car, please.

Devil: I was able to obtain some information one of her many, many, many erogenous zones. Just stroke her earlobe, and she'll do anything. Anything. Sam: There is something really wrong with you. Devil: What? Encouraging a young man to succumb to his primal and perfectly natural instincts. Sharing the fact that Taylor's in her experimental phase? Is that bad?

Ben: Yeah, Love, Bullets, and Blacktop. It's a fine title. Sock: Boobs, Bullets, and Blacktop would be better. You know, the whole repeating the B's thing, that's classy.

Sam: A church? Isn't this a little too close for comfort? Devil: Nah, me and the Big Guy have an understanding. I stay out of his house, he lets me play with his toys.

Devil: Love? There's no such thing. I'm talking real passion, lust. Sam: You don't think love is real? Devil: The French invited love so they could put a civilized face on a primal urge. Dress it up with candy and hearts and cubic zirocnia. In the end it all comes down to endorphins and genitalia.

Sock: All right, the code word is "jambalya." Ben: I don't like that word. Sock: I don't care if you like it, Ben. The decision has been made, okay?

Sock: You are a man of discriminating tastes. I can tell by the four buttons unbuttoned on your shirt.

Holly: Do you like to get crazy? Do you like to play with danger. Sam: I… dabble.