Enola: Don't call him that. He doesn't like it.
Deacon: I don't give a shit what he likes! He took out my eye!
Enola: "He'll come for me, he will."
Deacon: "Well, I hope so. 'Cuz if he does, I'm gonna cut open his head, and I'm gonna EAT HIS BRAIN!" ...You think he'd like that?