The Burbs (1989)

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.

Reuben: Mind your own business! mind your OWN business.
Ray Peterson: Okay.

Mark Rumsfield: Rumsfield's the name. Don't think I caught yours, sonny?
Hans Klopek: H-H-Hans.
Mark Rumsfield: Hans! Oh-ho! A fine Christian name. Hans Christian Andersen! What are you, Catholic?

Ray Peterson: I've never seen that. I've never seen anybody drive their garbage down to the street and bang the hell out of it with a stick. I-I've never seen that.

Art Wiengartner: I don't know if you've noticed, but there's bars on the basement windows here.
Ray Peterson: They've got holes in their porch, too.
Art Wiengartner: Argh! That was a booby trap.
Ray Peterson: Are you okay?
Art Wiengartner: Yeah.
Ray Peterson: Oh, booby trap. I'm not gonna pay for that.
Art Wiengartner: We shouldn't pay for that, we should sue them.