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Uncle Red: "There are no such things as werewolves!" Herb: "Its right here with us!"
(Growling can be heard)
Andy: " Oh shit! Run! Run!"
Marty: "This one's for the good guys!"
Jane: "In the make believe stories a man becomes a werewolf only when the moon is full. Maybe somehow it's different. Maybe he's like this all the time."
Uncle Red: "I'm a little too old to be playing "Hardy Boys meet Reverend Werewolf"!"
Reverend Lowe: " You meddling little shit!"
Uncle Red: "Holy jumped up bald-headed Jesus palomina. From him I'd expect it. Sometimes I think your common sense got paralysed along with your legs. But from you Jane? You're Miss Polly Practical!"
Herb: "Its under the fog!"
Bobby: " No, its behind us. I told you we should've turned back Andy. You can't trust this fog!"
Uncle Red: "I feel like a virgin on prom night!"
Uncle Red: "What the heck you gonna shoot a silver .44 bullet at anyway?"
Mac: "How 'bout a werewolf?"
Milt Sturmfuller: "Damn cripples. Always ending up on welfare. I'd electrocute 'em all if there weren't so goddamn many." Maggie Andrews: " What is it, Bobby? You gonna make lemonade in your pants?"
Marty: "You know who used to have a baseball bat like that? Mr. Knopfler."
Uncle Red: "So?"
Marty: "It looked like Bigfoot had used it for a toothpick!"
Jane: "Oh, I hate you, you booger!"
Uncle Red: "I understand that my niece and nephew have been sending little love letters to the local minister suggesting he gargle with broken glass, or eat a rat-poison omelette!"
Uncle Red: " Where's your mom?"
Marty: "She and Dad are out back lighting the barbeque, yeah, and Jane's walking around in all these new clothes showing off her tits, acting like no one ever had tits before her."
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