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: [wondering why Cassidy is offering a pistol
] What's this for? Reed Cassidy
: Plane catches fire you got three choices: You can burn with it all the way to the ground; You can jump several thousand feet; or you can take the quick and painless way out.
[Handing gun to Beagle
] Reed Cassidy
: Good luck, gentlemen.
: You, uh, slip there, killer?
: [to Briggs' innuendo
] Man, you're scratching fleas on a stuffed dog.