George: Sue's teacher, Brenda. She's... She's dead.
Tom: Oh. I better tell her.
George: No, no, no. I can do it. Sue?
Sue: Yes?
George: You know your teacher, Miss Brenda?
Sue: Yeah.
George: She's dead!
Sue: Aah!
George: Gone forever! Died a horrible, painful death! Gone, gone, gone, just like your dog!
Sue: My dog's dead?
George: I just ran him over with the car when I drove in! Everyone you love around you is dying!
Ross Giggins: I been cleanin' after this dumb-ass cracker Giggins for ten years, but I been hittin' it with his woman for twelve. Know what I'm sayin', ni**a? She likes her some chocolate. Sharpton for President y'all. I'm outie.
George: You just hate me 'cause I'm black.
George: Family, that's just what I've been running away from.
President Harris: Well, that's because you're an idiot.
Cindy: I'm looking for something more than just good sex.
Brenda Meeks: I know. You want commitment.
Cindy: No, I want great sex.
Brenda Meeks: There's something I need to tell you. I saw a tape. I think you should know about it. It had these really shocking images, Cindy.
Cindy: Brenda, it was Mardi Gras, I never drank vodka before, and I was out of beads!
Brenda Meeks: No, not that tape, Cindy.
Ross Giggins: Do they pose a threat? Only one thing's for certain. We are all going to be killed.
Architect: My wife and I wanted a child, but she couldn't get pregnant. Neither could I.
President Harris: Get me the President.
John Wilson: You are the President.
President Harris: Good. Then I already know about this. Let's order lunch.
The Architect: I can't help it. It's very lonely in here. Ergo, I haven't been with anyone in a very long time, not counting myself. Or this chair. I call her... Linda.
Mahalik: I found their weakness. They're powerless without their heads!
President Harris: I just want to tell you both good luck, we're all counting on you.
President Harris: You're excited? You should feel my nipples.
The Architect: We loved our daughter very much, but she was evil. Made the horses crazy. Killed our puppies. Hid the remote. Really sick shit. My wife took her to the old family farm and drowned her in the well. I felt a simple time-out would have been sufficient.
Answer: It was an alien in a Michael Jackson skin. He shed it and ran off into the bushes.
Grumpy Scot