- Rebel: [sitting in the garage with Mike's trashed Falcon] Gimme a go, Mike... let me fix your car for you.
- Mike: [knowing he can't afford to pay Rebel] Mmm, couldn't do that, mate.
- Rebel: No, I mean really fix it... make her fly! She's a 351, right? I've got some nitrous oxide injection 'round that's a sweet sensation.
- Rebel: [Mike's trying to drive the '57 Chev, but not very well] You're puttin' on the agony, mate, but you're missin' all the style!