Robert Clayton Dean: What life? You live in a fucking jar so the world can't touch you. And Rachel, you didn't give a shit about Rachel. Just some package under seat number 32 to you.
[Brill punches Dean, who then points the gun at Brill]
Brill: Come on. Do you have a problem? Do it. Go on, do it.
Robert Clayton Dean: I'm all you've got. And you're all I've got.