Lars: I don't believe it. He snapped the trap, ate the olive and left the pit just to mock us!
Ernie: I think you're giving him a little too much credit. Mice don't mock. They don't have a sense of humor or irony. He's not sitting in his hole in a smoking jacket sipping cognac, and giggling to himself, "I left the pit!" The trap snapped itself, the olive flew off and he ate it. It's just that simple. But now that he knows we're here, he won't come within a mile of us. I don't think we'll be seeing any more of that...
[sees mouse in cereal bowl]
Ernie: No capers? But that's just grilled cheese. What's the point? Why don't they eat out of a trough!
[addressing the clients of the diner]
Ernie: Which one of you palateless sheep sent my sandwich back?
Ernie: [to Lars] Come on. You loved string!
Lars: I didn't love string!
Ernie: Well, you could have fooled me! You and Pop were always huddled together running some piece of something through your fingers. It didn't matter what I did. I didn't even exist! I made him my special rack of lamb for his 70th birthday.
Lars: [sighing in resignation] Oh, no!
Ernie: Yes! You remember. I slaved over that meal, making sure everything was perfect. Did he say, "Thanks, Ernie, it was delicious?" No. He only noticed the string I had tied it with.
[the mouse is lying helpless in front of the two Smuntzes]
Lars: Look, he's still breathing.
Ernie: Well, kill him! Find a blunt object!
[Lars grabs a fireplace shovel and raises it over the mouse]
Ernie: Let him have it!
[Lars tries several times, but can't]
Ernie: What the hell are you waiting for?
Lars: I can't just hit him with a shovel.
Ernie: Why not?
Lars: Well, look at him, he's pathetic!
Ernie: Pathetic? He's Hitler with a tail! This is The Omen with whiskers! Nostradamus didn't see this thing coming!
Lars: Ernie, he's a living thing...
Ernie: Not for long, give me that!
[He grabs the shovel and tries to whack the mouse, but can't]
Ernie: I CAN'T!
[He sobs, beating his own forehead with the shovel]
Ernie: Look at him just lying there. It just doesn't feel very sportsmanlike!
Lars: We'd better do something quick, I think he's coming to!
[Cut to Lars and Ernie driving to the Post Office. Ernie is holding a small box addressed "TO FIDEL CASTRO, HAVANA, CUBA." Scratching is heard inside the box, and Ernie raises it to his ear]
Ernie: Aw... I forgot to put holes in the box.
Lars: [at their father's funeral, they carry his coffin down the steps of a cathedral] Hold your end up higher, you're not holding it.
Ernie: I am too.
Lars: You are not.
Ernie: Don't worry about me. Hey, isn't that suit charcoal?
Ernie: Looks charcoal gray to me, some gray polyester blend. Couldn't even find a black suit for your own father's funeral.
Lars: It's black.
Ernie: No, I'm sure it's gray.
Lars: It's black.
Ernie: Fine, it's black. It's the grayest black I've ever seen.
Lars: It doesn't matter what color it is!
[the handle on the coffin breaks off and the coffin slides down the steps]
Lars: I'm sorry, Pop! I'm sorry!
[Ernie takes a shotgun off the wall]
Lars: What are you gonna do?
Ernie: I'm gonna kill that unspeakable thing once and for all.
Lars: Ernie, no, no...
Ernie: Stay back, Lars! I'm a man on a mission!
Lars: This is how accidents happen, come on, Ernie, just put the gun down...
Ernie: I'm gonna blow his furry little head off, and I'm gonna splatter his devious little mouse brain from here to kingdom come!
Ernie: He's Hitler with a tail. He's "The Omen" with whiskers. Even Nostradamus didn't see him coming!
Lars: Well, these are all kittens. We were hoping for an older cat, one with experience.
Maury, the Cat Care Society Owner: That's a switch. Most people like the cute little ones. Experience with what?
Maury, the Cat Care Society Owner: Oh, all cats are good mousers.
Ernie: Yes, but you see, we have huge rats, the size of sumo wrestlers, and lots of 'em, so we really need a ferocious feline, preferably one with a history of mental illness. I'm talkin' one mean pussy.
Lars: Yeah! A vicious cat, difficult to love. You got any of those knocking around your cages?
Maury, the Cat Care Society Owner: Funny you should ask. I had given up hope of anyone wanting him. We were about to gas him again.
Lars: Look! You blew a hole in the floor!
Ernie: And I distinctly remember somebody yelling, "Shoot! Shoot!"
Lars: Yeah, well you never listened to me before!
Ernie: [making speech and as he does, the mouse is within the podium. Ernie tries to crush it with the gavel, and yells out words as he hits the gavel] When Quincy Thorpe of the Historical society told us the value of this house, you, uh, could have KNOCKED us over with a feather! We, uh, we didn't know what HIT US! The house was in terrible disrepair, but it wa snothing that a few NAILS... and some old fashioned elbow grease couldn't fix.
Ernie: Hey! Don't go!
[indicationg the flood in the house]
Ernie: A demonstration of how durable a LaRue really is! Now you know this house will last *forever*!
[the house crashes down]
Alexander: I own eveything of LaRue. His books, his letters.
Alexander: You see these shoes?
Alexander: No, but I'm sure he would have loved them.
Lars: Wow, did you feel that?
Lars: I got a chill. You should never talk about Pop like that.
Ernie: Really? What's this do for you?
Ernie: Thanks for nothing, you string-sucking old loon!
Lars: He didn't mean it, Pop.
Lars: Some things are more important than money, Ernie.
Ernie: Notice it's always the financially challenged who say that.
Ernie: [after releasing the cat into the house] Well... I almost feel sorry for the little fella.
Ernie: [reading the tag on the side of the cage] "Catzilla"?
Maury, the Cat Care Society Owner: Oh, you know the guys who clean up call him that. But you can call him anything you want. I'd say he looks more like a "Fluffy."
Lars: [leans down] Aw, poor little Catzilla. You want a home, don't you? You want to get out of here. Well, you're gonna have to kill, kill, kill for it!
Ernie: You're a stupid cat, aren't you? Yes, you are! And you're ugly, too...
[the cat lunges, Maury subdues him with a taser]
Lars: [noticing his torn coat sleeve] Oh, you little bastard!
Ernie: We'll take him!
[the Smuntzes have covered the entire kitchen floor with mousetraps]
Lars: Don't you think this is a little much?
Ernie: Never underestimate your opponent. Let's say he has mastered a way to empty a mousetrap without getting caught. If he snaps one of these babies, a chain reaction will start snapping them all. He'll panic, and the law of averages says one of them has to nab him.
Lars: Not bad.
Ernie: Yes, well, I like to use both sides of my brain. Come on, let's hit the sack.
[they get up to leave, only to realize they locked the door and that they are all trapped in with a bunch of loaded mousetraps]
Ernie: I'm gonna build an Olympic-sized swimming pool and fill it with pina coladas and a college sorority.
Ernie: Shh! He's goin' for the cherries!
Lars: I thought you said mice like Gouda.
Ernie: Not in the morning! Cheese tires them out. They need fruit for energy.
Ernie: Just think of all the trouble we could have saved ourselves if we just threw fruit at him in the first place!
Alexander: There's a lot of Eurotrash out there scarfin' up the shrimps.
Ernie: [speaking in a fake French accent while serving the Mayor and his wife] Duck a l'Orange avec du quack sauce. And for ze Mayor, la specialty de la maison, Lobster Loaf a la Ernst ou la bibliotheque.
Lawyer: [about their new house] It's interesting. it seems the previous owner was found locked in a trunk in the attic...
Lars: [as his wife is packing a suitcase] Please, April, don't go.
April Smuntz: I'm not going anywhere.
[frame cuts to Lars standing on the porch with the suitcase]
The Mayor's Wife: [after the mayor swallows a cockroach and passes out] Oh, no, not again!
Ernie: [Ernie is being bombarded by angry factory workers] Light a match; they're frightened by fire!
Ernie: [Caesar is being carried out on a stretcher] Caeser! Are you all right? Try to think, did you catch that mouse?
Caesar: What's that? Horse? *Fiendish*! I won't eat it!
[he has lost his mind]
[he begins chattering like a mouse]
April Smuntz: Does a wife need a reason to visit?
[takes champagne glass from passing waiter]
April Smuntz: I didn't know you were entertaining.
Ernie: Don't you mean *ex*wife?
April Smuntz: That remains to be seen.
Lars: You think I didn't have other things I wanted to do with my life? You think I didn't have ambitions of my own?
Ernie: Come on, you love string!
Caesar: You got asbestos all right.
[points to floor]
Caesar: I'll bet it's up in the ceiling mostly. Should take me only a day, or two, to remove it.
Lars: We made love in a way I've-I've only ever seen in nature films!
Caesar: You have to get inside their mind. You have to know what they want, need. You have to think... like a mouse!
Alexander: [talking to Ernie] You know, it would be a shame if you boys put on this auction and nobody bid.
Lars: You used to love string.
April Smuntz: That was before, when I was dating the son of wealthy string magnate! Not now when I am married to the half owner of a worthless deathtrap!
Crying Child: [screams] No, no, no, Fluffy! No! No, I want my kitty! No! No! No! No! No! Fluffy!
Lars: Ah, you must be Caesar.
Ernie: Hello, Mr. Caesar. Glad you could come so quickly.
[has a quick look-around]
Caesar: You have mice.
Lars: [under his breath] He's good.
Lars Smuntz: [they are trying to vacuum up the mouse, they instead are vacuuming up sewage] Damn, that mouse stinks!
Ernest Smuntz: Dead animals always do.
Cuban Post Office Guy: [the post office in Cuba has just received the mouse] Damn Americans, always trying to cheat us!
Ernie: I hate you!
Lars: And I hate you!
Ernie: Not as much as I hate you!
Ernie: Yeah, DOUBLE! DOUBLE! Oh, give me something!
[Starts looking for something to throw. Lars grabs an orange]
Ernie: I'm gonna brain you!
Lars: 'Ere it is!
Ernie: Oh, yeah! Give it to me then! Go ahead!
[Lars throws the orange. Ernie ducks and the orange hits the mouse, who was watching. Ernie spots the mouse]
Ernie: [Almost relieved] You killed him!