[after the two pilots crash in the simulator] Simulator pilot: Is this some kind of joke? There's no way to land that aircraft the way you guys got it programmed! Simulator co-pilot: Dumb scenario if you ask me! Impossible set of conditions! Who ever dreamed that up? Inspector: It isn't a dream. It happened. Maurice Quintal: It's the first time in my life I'd rather be on the ground than in the air. Pearl Dion: What can go wrong when the airline's top mechanic is sitting in the seat right next to us? Rick Dion: You don't want the oxygen masks popping out. It might panic the passengers. Capt. Bob Pearson: "Might panic"? Heh. I'm surprised they're not back there knitting their own parachutes right now. [small talk between the first officer and a flight attendant] Maurice Quintal: How's things in the cabin? Busy? Florence Bisaillon: [chuckles] It's less than half-full! But I prefer when it's so busy. Then, I can't stop. Time goes by faster. Maurice Quintal: Well, you wouldn't get to enjoy the flight, eh? Florence Bisaillon: That's fine by me. I hate flying. [trying to assume the crash landing position, Bob's seat in front of him falls] Bob Rand: [screaming] What's wrong with this? Why can't you people do anything right? This damn seat's collapsing. Lynn Brown: It's designed to do that, Sir! It cushions you if you just rest on it, and don't try to mash it. Bob Rand: What's the matter? We're all going to die anyway. Lynn Brown: Would you please be quiet? I have a little daughter waiting for me at home, and I have *no* intention of dying! Bob Rand: Bull! This plane's going to... Lynn Brown: [raising her voice] Sir, shut your stupid mouth! [Lynn slams the seat back to its upright position] Larry Roberts: [over the PA] Uh, would the cabin crew please report to the forward galley? Phil Lyons: [raising his glass] Here's to accurate dental records. Bob Rand: [stopping flight attendant Florence on her way to the front] Hey! What the hell is going on? Florence Bisaillon: Uh, routine, Sir. Just routine for us to meet on long flights, to check the liquor inventory... Bob Rand: Don't give me that bull. I'm a paying customer. I pay your damn wages. Now, what's going on? Florence Bisaillon: If you *must* swear, could you keep your voice down? [keeps walking] Bob Rand: Hey! Hey! Hey! Phil Lyons: I knew I shouldn't have bothered with my stupid family reunion. I knew it. Thank God I didn't bring Gloria along. Bob Rand: At least you're on vacation. I've got to go back to work on Monday. Phil Lyons: What do you do? Bob Rand: [sighs] I coach at the local High School.
: Well, I guess I pay your wages, then, don't I?