Say a word about this over the radio, and the next wings you see will belong to the flies buzzing over your rotting corpse!

More from Con Air

• What's wrong with him?
• Put... the bunny... back... in the... box.
• There’s only two men I trust. One is me. The other is not you.
• Define irony. Irony is a bunch of idiots singing a song on plane made famous by a band that died in a plane crash.
• He's a fountain of misplaced rage. Name your cliche; Mother held him too much or not enough, last picked at kickball, late night sneaky uncle, whatever. Now he's so angry that moments of levity actually cause him pain; give him headaches. Happiness, for that gentleman, hurts.
• I got a problem with a corpse.