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: 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: He can't come out until he resembles the man that I married.
Art: Carol, We don't have that kind of time.
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.
Ray Peterson: I'm a broken man because of you, Art.
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.
Ray Peterson: Infra-red night vision scopes? What are we going to do next, tap their phones line?
Mark Rumsfield: That can be arranged.
Ray Peterson: I'm gonna go do something productive. I'm gonna go watch television.
Art: Safety is my middle name.
Ray Peterson: I thought his middle name was Louis.
Hans Klopek: Sardine?
Bonnie Rumsfield: I'm trying to cut back.
Art Wiengartner: Ray, do you want 'em to take your family, kidnap 'em, tear their livers out and make some kind of satanic pâté?
