Ray Peterson: So they keep to themselves, can you blame them? They live next door to people who break in their house, and burn IT down while they're gone for the day.
Mark Rumsfield: There go the Goddamn brownies.
Ray Peterson: You wanna take that out of your pocket? You wanna not steal that from Walter's house, please?
Ray Peterson: No, Art, see, they're gonna think that I did it. Yeah, they are.
Art Wiengartner: Why?
Ray Peterson: Well the old guy... He saw me write a note and put it underneath Walter's door SO NOW THEY'RE gonna think that I DID IT.
Art Wiengartner: ...You wrote a note?
Ray Peterson: Infra-red night vision scopes? What are we going to do next, tap their phones line?
Mark Rumsfield: That can be arranged.
Ricky Butler: Hey, Mrs. Rumsfield, no tan lines. Looks nice.
Mark Rumsfield: That kid next door's a meatball.
Mark Rumsfield: I know you're in there, old man! Listen up, mister! That piece of scum barking rat of yours has just taken his last dump on my lawn! I find one more - just one - I'm gonna catch him and staple his ass shut.
Art Wiengartner: Ray, do you want 'em to take your family, kidnap 'em, tear their livers out and make some kind of satanic pâté?
Art: Apparently their last house, it only... burned to the ground.
Ray Peterson: Really?
Art: Yeah, a hideous raging inferno.
Art: Wait, hold it, garbies! Garbies, garbage men! Hold on a minute, wait a sec! Wait. Wait, wait, hold it. What are you doing?
Vic, Garbageman #1: Emptying garbage.
Art: Into the garbage truck? What are you, out of your mind?
Carol Peterson: Where are you going?
Ray Peterson: I can't walk anywhere without you asking me where I'm going - I'm going to Paris, France, okay? I'm going to Banff, Canada, all right? That's where I'm going.
Carol Peterson: Are you taking the dog?
Ray Peterson: Yeah, yeah, I'm taking the dog for a walk.
Ricky Butler: Green sky at morning, neighbor take warning.
Ray Peterson: Green sky at night?
Ricky Butler: Neighbor take flight?
Vic, Garbageman #1: The question here is garbage. Who picks up this mess?
Mr. Rumsfield: Who picks up this mess? Well you're going to pick up the mess, because you are a garbage man.
Vic, Garbageman #1: I pick up garbage from cans, not from the street.
Mark Rumsfield: Klopek... what is that, Slavic?
Reuben: No.
Mark Rumsfield: 'Bout a nine on the tension scale, Reub.
Art: I think the message to, uh, psychos, fanatics, murderers, nutcases all over the world is, uh, "do not mess with suburbanites." Because, uh, frankly we're just not gonna take it any more. Ya know, we're not gonna be content to look after our lawns and wax our cars, paint out houses. We're out to get them, Don, we are out to get them.
Art Wiengartner: I'm telling you these people are Satanists. As I sit here, they are satanists. Look, look, the world is full of these kind of things - black masses, mutilations. Mutilations! The incubus, the succubus - I'm tellin' you, Walter was a human sacrifice.
Ray Peterson: I'm a broken man because of you, Art.
Mark Rumsfield: Art.
Bonnie Rumsfield: Your wife is home.
Mark Rumsfield: And your house is on fire.
Art: My wife is home?
Mark Rumsfield: That really burns my ass.
Bonnie Rumsfield: What?
Mark Rumsfield: That old fart. He's got the best lawn on the block. And you know why? Because he trains his dog to crap in my yard.
Art: Safety is my middle name.
Ray Peterson: I thought his middle name was Louis.
Answer: It's unlikely he could have survived in real life, or if he did, he'd be far more injured and/or permanently maimed, but this is a comedy movie, and reality is often ignored.
raywest