Philip: How are you, son?
Will: Dude, what's up? Hey, don't be looking at me like that. Y'all know ain't no little bullet gonna stop me. However, I will be doing my banking by mail from now on. Knowing my luck, I'll run into a disgruntled postal worker. [all laughing]
Philip: Are you in pain, son?
Will: Well, it ain't as bad as the last time Geoffrey made chili.
Geoffrey: I guess you won't be wanting this, then. [holds up bag]