Laurie Strode: You failed, Michael. Want to know why? Because I'm not afraid of you. But what about you? Are you afraid of me? Are you afraid to die, Michael?
Freddie Harris: Trick or treat, motherfucker!
[Trying to lure Michael away from Sara]
Rudy Grimes: Hey, Michael. Yeah, I'm talkin' to you. You want a piece of me?
Freddie Harris: Hey Mikey! Happy Fuckin' Halloween!
Laurie Strode: I'll see you in hell.
[Falls to her death]
Freddie Harris: [to the REAL Michael Myers] I'm not payin you to be Michael Myers! I'm playin Michael Myers! And if them kids come around and see us dressed up in the same shit, it's going to ruin the whole effect! God damn it! What the hell is wrong with you?
[Michael remains still]
Freddie Harris: I said what are you looking at me like that for?
[tapping Michael's forehead]
Freddie Harris: Huh? You don't get it? You don't get it? Your shit up there ain't workin or something? Huh? You need to get you ass back in the garage with Nora! That's your job! Go back in there and help her ass out! Go do your job! I left the back door unlocked for your ass to go out the back and into the garage! That's what I did! You need to get the hell out of here!
[Michael's still motionless]
Freddie Harris: Go on! Skoot! Skadattle! Get the fuck out of Dodge!
[Michael finally walks away]
Freddie Harris: God damn it... what the hell does somebody gotta do to get a little decent help up in this mothafucka?
Freddie Harris: [Fighting Michael] Let's see what you got!
[about Myers' bed]
Jenna Danzig: This must be where the demon was conceived.
Jim Morgan: [to Donna] Nice legs. What time do they open?
[Donna gives him the finger]
Jim Morgan: Is that one o'clock?
Bill: You know, I think it happened when she was right there. Poor little Judith. Helpless, brushing her hair, young and naked.
Jenna Danzig: Yeah. 'Cause that's gonna happen, right?
Bill: Come on, Jen. One flash and you could light up a thousand computer screens. Launch your whole career.
Jenna Danzig: You are, like, this close to getting voted off the island.
Laurie Strode: Are you afraid of me, Michael?
Rudy Grimes: You want some of this? Huh? You want to try and fucking kill me? Huh? You like sushi, motherfucka?
Donna Chang: Cameras are so... phallic.
Jim Morgan: Is that good or bad?
Donna Chang: Depends who's watching.
Sara: Rudy, do you ever think about anything other than food?
Rudy Grimes: Wouldn't you like to know?
Freddie Harris: Fear is good. Fear is what gives us the feeling of being alive.
Sara: Fear makes me want to throw up.
Laurie Strode: I knew you'd come for me sooner or later. What took you so long?
Sara: Look, every time I let you two talk me into something I live to regret it.
Rudy Grimes: Listen, without me you would die of boredom.
Jenna Danzig: Us! Without us you would die of boredom.
Rudy Grimes: Whatever.
Aron: Don't do it. That's the house where it all started. He walked it's hallways. Hide in it's closets. Dreamed in it's bedrooms. Helped his Mother in the kitchen. Watched TV in the living room with his Dad. Played in his Sisters bedroom. Then one day he picked up a knife and he never put it down again.
Rudy Grimes: Never underestimate the effect of a poor diet. Too much protein, not enough zinc. Next thing you know, you're cutting up bodies in the bathtub. I mean, look at Hitler. He was a vegetarian. The brother was seriously malnourished.
Sara: I don't want to be famous.
Freddie Harris: What do you mean you don't want to be famous? That's the American dream!
Sara: Aren't we supposed to be looking for answers?
Jim Morgan: All right, the devil made him do it. I'm done.
Freddie Harris: You hit me like I murdered your fucking Mother or something!
Jim Morgan: She must be going for the first Internet Emmy.
Freddie Harris: Michael Myers is a killer shark. In baggy ass overalls who gets his kicks from killing everyone and everything he comes across.
Freddie Harris: [while watching TV] Kick his ass! Kick his ass! Kick his ass! Who's better than Wat Chun Lee? Whoopin' everybody ass while he's smokin' a cigarette.
[knock on the door]
Freddie Harris: Oh, shit. Who's knockin' on my door this late? Whoever this is, is distracting me from seeing Wat Chun Lee whoop some ass.
Freddie Harris: Looking a little crispy over there, Mikey. Like some chicken-fried motherfucker. Well, may he never, ever rest in peace.