G.P.S.

Gavin:
Bob, you're not seriously going to pack in 72 bottles of beer.

Bob:
What, not enough? Don't worry, I brought hard stuff, too. And if all fails, there's rubbing alcohol in the first aid kit.

Andrew:
What are you doing with a gun?

Bob:
We're in the middle of nowhere. I'm a boy scout. Do the math!

Allison:
Maybe this game isn't a game. Maybe this so-called hunt is an actual hunt. Maybe -

Bob:
Allison, stop talking.

Allison:
No! There's no way I'm going another ten miles in the middle of nowhere, where some maniac has kidnapped and possibly killed some woman. I'm not doing it!

Bob:
One of these days, Frankie.

Frankie:
Is that a date, Bob? You get so cute when you're angry.