The 'Burbs (1989)
Dr. Werner Klopek: Come now, Mr. Peterson, you were in my basement. Surely, you looked in the furnace.
Ray Peterson: Well I-I-I-I saw your furnace, Doctor. I figured a man's furnace is his business.
Dr. Werner Klopek: You saw one of my skulls, didn't you? Oh yes, I know you did. It belonged to a neighbor of yours. The name was Knapp. We took the house from them. I offered to buy it but you know how old people are, they grow so attached to things.
Ray Peterson: Uh, you know, Dr. Klopek, I think I forgot my wallet...
[Tries to get up but is held down]
Dr. Werner Klopek: I let you keep the femur, but now, now I want my skull. Or perhaps, I might just take yours. Hans!
Ray Peterson: Remember what you were saying about people in the 'burbs, Art, people like Skip, people who mow their lawn for the 800th time, and then SNAP? WELL, THAT'S US. IT'S NOT THEM, THAT'S US. WE'RE the ones who are vaulting over the fences, and peeking in through people's windows. We're the ones who are THROWING GARBAGE IN THE STREET, AND LIGHTING FIRES. WE'RE THE ONES WHO ARE ACTING SUSPICIOUS AND PARANOID, ART. WE'RE THE LUNATICS. US. IT'S NOT THEM. It's us.
Art Wiengartner: [after a pause] I don't know what to say... What, do you want me to move?
Ray Peterson: [chanting] I'm not going to listen to this, I'm not going to hear this now.
Art: Ray! Ray! You're chanting!
[points to book]
Art: Ray, unconscious chanting! You're chanting!
Ray Peterson: [continues chanting with fingers in ears]
Art: [chants] I want to kill everyone. Satan is good. Satan is our pal.
Art: Hey, once they get in here...
[points to Ray's head]
Art: ...it's over, pal.
Mark Rumsfield: Klopek, is that Slavic?
Mark Rumsfield: 'Bout a nine on the tension scale there, Reub.
Mark Rumsfield: [Pounds] Good solid walls...
Mark Rumsfield: Good solid floors.
[Someone in the basement pounds in response. Rumsfield grins]
Mark Rumsfield: Oh-ho. Got somebody tied up in the ol' cellar, have yah, Rube?
Ray Peterson: Nobody knocks off an old man in my neighborhood and gets away with it.
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.
Mark Rumsfield: Art!
Bonnie Rumsfield: Your wife is home!
Mark Rumsfield: And your house is on fire!
Art: My wife is home?
Ray Peterson: You dreamt you were on a plane and it crashed, you took a bus to Las Vegas.
Art Wiengartner: If I had been on that plane it WOULD have crashed.
Mark Rumsfield: Rumsfield's the name. Don't believe I caught yours, sonny?
Hans Klopek: H-H-Hans.
Mark Rumsfield: Oh-ho! Hans! A fine Christian name. Hans Christian Andersen! What are you, Catholic?
[looking at photo]
Mark Rumsfield: Oh, pretty girl! Friend of yours?
Hans Klopek: No, it came with the frame.
Mark Rumsfield: [mocking] It came wit da frame?
Mark Rumsfield: Hey... Pinocchio! Where are you going?
Hans Klopek: [runs away and slips on dog poop]
Mark Rumsfield: [runs, slips and falls on poop too; then grabs him] Don't you make a move sonny. I was eighteen months in the bush and I could snap your neck in a heartbeat.
Ricky Butler: Ya know, did you ever see the movie, "The Sentinel", Mr. Peterson? It's about the old guy who owned the apartment, which is kind of like the, uh, gateway to Hell?
Ray Peterson: No, I... I didn't see that.
Ricky Butler: Oh, well, I was doing some thinking. And, you know, being that their last house burnt down and all, it's like, maybe... somebody left the gate open.
[a generator starts up from the Klopek's basement]
Art Wiengartner: It's them. They're movin' around again. Ya know... it was a night just like this that it happened.
Ricky Butler: What happened, Mr. Weingartner?
Art Wiengartner: Oh, it was a long time ago, Ricky. Hinkley Hills was a lot smaller then... safer too! You never had to lock your doors. Everybody knew everybody. I must have been maybe oh nine - ten years-old. You know where the big mall is?
Ricky Butler: Yeah.
Art Wiengartner: Well, there used to be a big drugstore on the corner there, had a big soda fountain, remember?
Ray Peterson: Yeah.
Art Wiengartner: Yeah, and the guy who ran it was a - was a rotund guy, had glasses. His name was Skip. Lived over on Elm, had a wife, a couple of kids, ya know? Not too sharp, I mean, hey the guy's 40 years old, he's wearing a paper hat and he's makin' cherry Cokes, it's a cinch he's not runnin' for governor, right?
Art Wiengartner: Anyway, it got hot that summer, I remember it got REAL hot. It was sweltering. Ya know that heat where your underwear sweats and it crawls up the... anyway, it's hot, okay? And they start... they start smellin' this... this really vile stench over on Elm and they figure it's comin' from Skip's place. And no one wants to say anything, I mean, what do you do, go knock on the guys door, "Hi, you're house stinks"? So - so people are trying to ignore it, right? They're trying to pretend it - it isn't happening. A-and you know those pine things? They're trying to cover up with those pine things that you can put in cars. People are hanging those on their porches.
Art Wiengartner: Oh, you think that's funny, Rick?
Ricky Butler: Well, yeah.
Art Wiengartner: Well yeah - let me tell you what happened next, OK. The state health inspector shows up. They go over, they talk to Skip, he says he's got a sump pump problem. They leave. Hey, they guy's got a sewer problem, he says he'll look after it, everything's okay, right?
Ricky Butler: Right.
Art Wiengartner: Wrong. A couple hours later there's smoke pouring out of the windows of Skip's house. The firemen show up, they go into Skip's house. Ya know what they find?
Ricky Butler: What?
Art Wiengartner: Skip's family, dead. Murdered... by Skip... weeks earlier... with an ice pick. Yeah, the guy killed his own family with an ice pick. Yeah... yeah just put 'em in the cool basement, covered 'em up with a sheet and went back to makin' ice cream treats for the townsfolk. Only thing... Skip didn't count on there being a big heat wave that summer. You know what that was that all those people were smelling over on Elm, Ricky?
Ricky Butler: What?
Art Wiengartner: Skip's family's bodies, decomposing in the summer heat
Art Wiengartner: . Yeah apparently, one day Skip made just made one too many lemon phosphates,
Art Wiengartner: El snappo!
Ricky Butler: Green sky at morning, neighbor take warning.
Ray Peterson: Green sky at night?
Ricky Butler: Neighbor take flight?
Art: Hey, hey, hey. Who the heck ordered the blood shake? Hey, Ray, it's not Skip. It's Art. I'm just pretending to be Skip. Say, you didn't happen to see an ice pick around here, did you?
Mark Rumsfield: Hey, Ricky, get this lame-o out of your yard.
Ricky Butler: [puts his arm around his friend] Get out of my yard, Lame-o!
Carol Peterson: You were up at the crack of dawn watching a dog poop.
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.
Ricky Butler: Hey, Mrs. Rumsfield, no tan lines. Looks nice.
Mark Rumsfield: That kid next door's a meatball.
Mark Rumsfield: In Southeast Asia we'd call this kind of thing bad karma.
Mark Rumsfield: Walter. I know you're in there. That scum-sucking, barking rat of yours has just taken his last dump on my lawn. I find one more- just one- and I'm gonna catch him and staple his ass shut.
Mark Rumsfield: Are you completely pussy-whipped? Why don't you just take your balls out of your wifes purse... make a stand for one time in your life.
Ricky: Ya know, did you ever see the movie "The Sentinel," Mr Peterson? It's about the old guy who owns the apartment which is kinda like the, uh, gateway to hell.
Ray Peterson: No, I, I didn't see that.
Ricky: Well, I was doin' some thinkin' and you know, being that their last house burned down and all, it's like maybe, somebody left the gate open.
Art: Being that their last house only... burned to the ground.
Ray Peterson: Yeah?
Art: Yeah a hideous raging inferno.
Art: I'm tellin' ya, officer, there's a body buried in that house.
Detective #1: The old guy, Mr. Seznick right?
Art: Yeah the old guy who's sitting here is buried in that house.
Art: Safety is my middle name.
Ray Peterson: I thought his middle name was Louis.
Mark Rumsfield: Smells like they're cooking a goddamn cat over there.
Mark Rumsfield: What'd you say we all sit down for a little of the old face-to-face, hey What-Rube?
Mark Rumsfield: Here you are, sonny - a little something for the old sweet tooth.
Ray Peterson: Is that some sort of a transformer...?
Mark Rumsfield: It's the goddamn power company.
Steve Kuntz: Hey man, like when's the big unveiling? I got work today.
Mark Rumsfield: Hey man, piss off.
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: Garbies. Wait. What are you doing?
Vic, Garbageman #1: Emptying garbage.
Art: Into the garbage truck? Are you out of your mind?
Carol Peterson: Ray isn't coming out of his room until he resembles the man I married.
Art: Carol, We don't have that kind of time.
Ray Peterson: I'm going to go do something productive. I'm gonna go watch television.
Ricky Butler: Hey, Mr. Rumsfield. You guys managed to knock out the power on the entire block. Maybe the whole south end of town.
Mark Rumsfield: Ricky, SHUT UP.
Ray Peterson: Night vision goggles? What's next, we bug their phones?
Mark Rumsfield: That can be arranged.
Ray Peterson: I've been blown up, take me to the hospital.
[Lays on a gurney]
Ray Peterson: Take me to a hospital, I'm sick. What...?
[Jumps up, throws the gurney in back of an ambulance than jumps on top of it]
Carol Peterson: Honey? I'll just find out what hospital they're taking you to and then I'll... Follow right along. Okay?
Ray Peterson: [Laying face down on the gurney] Okay, honey.
Art Wiengartner: I can see the news report now - they were a quiet family, kept pretty much to themselves. No one ever would have suspected them of foul play.
Mr. Rumsfield: Affirmative. That garbage is going nowhere. I say we wait till first light. Scope me.
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 this mess, because YOU are a garbage man.
Vic, Garbageman #1: I pick up garbage from the cans, not out of the streets!
Ray Peterson: You wanna take that out of your pocket? You wanna not steal that from Walter's house?
Ray Peterson: It's Walter's toupee... very nice, right on the stove.
Mr. Rumsfield: One thing about these old guys - they never leave the house without their hair. Walter left this house in a big hurry.
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: [mumbling] aw, oh I should have gone to the lake, I shoulda listened to Carol...
Art Wiengartner: Listen to your wife? Who listens to their wife? Listen, you gotta listen to me.
Art Wiengartner: Ray, do you want 'em to take your family, tear their livers out and make some kind of satanic pâté?
[Art and Ricky are sitting on the porch when Ray comes out]
Art: He comes over here to smoke cigars, his wife won't let him, he doesnt know i know that... Hiya Ray! How ya doing bud?
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, alright? 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.
Art Wiengartner: Ray. Ray.
Ray Peterson: I'm only trying to take a nap! I'm only laying here with my eyes closed trying to keep some goddamn sleep!
Art: Rumsfield and I, we flushed them out. We wrote a note, we slipped it under the door, we rang the bell and then we ran.
Ray Peterson: You did that?
Ray Peterson: [Jumps up] OH GEEZ! STUPID IDI - I can't believe you - -
[Crushes a beer can]
Art: All I did was write, "I know what you've done". That's all. I didn't sign it.
Ray Peterson: OH! I can't belie - YOU STUPID... GOD!
Art: You gotta goose these people every once in a while. You gotta give them a little shot, give them a little whack, let them know that you're there.
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 under Walter's door SO NOW THEY'RE GONNA THINK THAT I DID IT!
Art Wiengartner: ...You wrote a note?
Art Wiengartner: [finds a femur bone] Ray, there's no doubt anymore. This is real. Our neighbors are murdering people. They're chopping them up. They're burying them in their backyard. Ray... This is Walter.
[They both scream]
Art Wiengartner: [Ray is trying to jimmy the door open with a store credit card] Where did you learn to do that?
Ray Peterson: I *don't* know how to do this.
[the credit card breaks]
Art Wiengartner: That's a shit store anyway.
Art Wiengartner: Go ahead, tell him, Ray. We got the goods on them, don't we? You know, some day they're going to dig up the back of that yard and they're gonna find the rest of that skeleton to go with that femur. Oh it might not be Walter but it's gonna be some...
Ray Peterson: Shut up. SHUT UP, ART, SHUT UP! God, you don't know when to quit, do you? Look at me! I'm a shell of a man because of you, Art!
Reuben: Mind your own business! MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!
Ray Peterson: OKAY!
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.
Carol Peterson: Ray... Ray, where are you going? Come back to bed.
[Ray heads outside]
Mark Rumsfield: We caught ya, Reub. You think you've been playing us for saps but you were wrong.
Art Wiengartner: A thermostat on a home furnace; is that supposed to go to 5,000 degrees, you think?
Art Wiengartner: Ray, there's nothing in here- we practically checked this whole truck. They-they must have switched on us during the night.
Joe, Garbageman #2: The FBI?
Vic, Garbageman #1: I hate cul-de-sacs. There's only one way out, and the people are kind of weird.
Mark Rumsfield: [Ray takes Walter's toupee out of his shorts] Are you implying that you've been carrying that around in your shorts all day?
Ray Peterson: After you left Walter's house yesterday, I slipped this back in, through the mail slot.
Art Wiengartner: Well, where'd you get this then?
[Ray gestures to the Klopeck's house]
Ray Peterson: After the dog came up out of the basement, I found it wedged in between a bunch of magazines all of which I might add, were addressed to Walter!
Art Wiengartner: Then that means that...
Mark Rumsfield: Klopeck went back into the house and got the hair. What do we do now, soldier?
Ray Peterson: Well you heard them say they're leaving tomorrow morning? As soon as they're gone, I'm going over that fence, and I'm not coming back until I find a dead body.
Ricky Butler: Oh, Mr. Rumsfield, be careful! Queenie...
Mark Rumsfield: [steps in poop] Goddamn it!
Bonnie Rumsfield: Uh-oh.
Mark Rumsfield: Walter. Walter! Walter!
Ricky Butler: I love that dude.
Art Wiengartner: [emptying the Klopeks garbage into the street] Give me that.
Joe, Garbageman #2: Here you go.
[empties bag in street]
Vic, Garbageman #1: What are YOU doin'?
Joe, Garbageman #2: You asked me to help.
Vic, Garbageman #1: [groans in annoyance]
Art: You know what the deal is? We gotta go down to the religious supply store. We gotta get a couple of gallons of holy water. My cousin Gary is a priest. He can get us a deal!
Art Wiengartner: [chanting] I want to kill everyone. Satan is good, Satan is our pal.
Mark Rumsfield: Let's cut this "nice" crap. We know what's goin' on here. What's the weird Goddamn noise comin' from the basement?