I'm afraid to move. Afraid to say anything. Afraid not to tell you where the money is hidden. I'm f*cking afraid. Period.
I just shit my pants.
If anybody wants me, I'll be hiding under the bed.
A shot (okay a bottle) of Jack sounds good right about now. Liquid courage to help me pack up and get the hell out of Dodge!
Gerard Butler can threaten me like that any time.