"Honey, I have to do this. For us. For me. This is what I do: beat people with flashlights."

"Bobby, if this is about money, we'll make it work. I'll get another job, I'll clip coupons, we'll make due-"

"You shouldn't have to."

"But I will. And babe, you shouldn't have to do this. You made a promise to me when we were married. No more late night flashlight fighting. You said you'd leave it behind."

"So maybe I can't. Look Angela, it's the only thing I've ever been good at, okay? And I can get back in the ring."

"There is no ring. You guys just get together in darkened warehouses and wail on each other with flashlights."

"Whatever. The point is I've still got it. I can be the champ again. I can make it so we don't have to live like this."

"I'd rather worry about money than whether my husband is going to come home, Bobby. I can't do it. I can't take it. I won't do it, Bobby. Do you hear me?!"

Angela. I'm taking my Life+Gear 700 Lumen Flashlight, and I'm going. One last fight in a dark room with a flashlight. For us."

"Then go. Be careful, Bobby. But don't expect me to be here when you get back."

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