Rebecca: Oh, Buster, Buster, good old Buster.
Woody: Oh, no, that's not Buster, that's Satan.
Rebecca: What?
Sam: Who?
Woody: I was brushing the snow off of the hubcaps, and I saw Satan here chewing through a tire, and I thought you know, he looks just like that picture of Buster. So I borrowed him, in case we don't find the other dog.
Rebecca: Woody, take him to the kitchen. I only hope we can fool Sheridan with this flea bag.
Woody: He's no flea bag, Miss Howe. He's a trained attack dog. Come on, sweetheart.