Dube: [Dube, after running through the hotel lobby with a leaking cooler of lobster, quickly empties the cooler in a sink. Water, ice, and lobsters come gushing out into the sink and onto the surrounding counter. Some of the water, ice and one of the lobsters fall on the floor] Oh, Shit! Oh, sorry, sir.
Head Chef: Ten Alive, twelve are dead.
Paul Rusesabagina: All Right... But save the shells. Fill them with... a stuffing. The good meat and something local.
Head Chef: Cassava?
Paul Rusesabagina: And... the fish?
Head Chef: And tipali?
Paul Rusesabagina:
Dube: Style, sir?
Paul Rusesabagina: Yes, sir.