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Michael Emerson: [upon seeing Grandpa's workroom, filled with deer heads] Talk about the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

Lucy Emerson: [to Sam] I can never sleep with the closet door open, either. Not even a crack. Sam, this is a terrible thing to admit, but I think that one of the reasons I divorced your father was because he never believed in the closet monster.

Michael: Any jobs around here?
Man: Nothing legal.

Michael: [about Grandpa] Looks like he's dead!
Lucy: No, he's just a deep sleeper.
Sam: If he's dead, can we go back to Phoenix?
Grandpa: Playin' dead. And from what I heard, doin' a damn good job of it, too.

Michael: Grandpa, is it true that Santa Carla's the murder capital of the world?
Grandpa: There are some bad elements around here.
Sam: Wait a second, let me get this straight. You're telling me we've moved to the murder capital of the world? Are you serious, Grandpa?
Grandpa: Well, let me put it this way. If all the corpses buried around here were to stand up all at once we'd have one hell of a population problem.

Grandpa: Now, on Wednesdays when the mailman brings the TV Guide sometimes the address label is curled up just a little. You'll be tempted to tear it off. Don't. You'll only wind up rippin' the cover and I don't like that. And stay outta here.
Sam: Wait, you have a TV?
Grandpa: No. I just like to read the TV Guide. Read the TV Guide, you don't need a TV.

Sam: So where're we going?
Michael: Nowhere.
Sam: So what's the rush? You're chasing that girl aren't you? Come on, admit it. You're at the mercy of your sex glands, bud.

Sam: Got a problem, guys?
Edgar: Just scoping your civilian wardrobe.
Sam: Pretty cool, huh?
Alan: For a fashion victim.

Edgar: Where the hell are you from? Krypton?
Sam: Phoenix, actually. But lucky me, we moved...here.

Edgar: You think you really know what's happening here, don't you? Well, I'll tell you something. You don't know shit buddy. You think we just work in a comic bookstore for our folks, huh?
Sam: Actually, I thought it was a bakery.
Edgar: This is just our cover. We are dedicated to a higher purpose. We're fighters for Truth, Justice, and the American way.

Edgar: Read this.
Sam: I told you I don't like horror comics.
Alan: Think of it more as a survival manual. There's our number on the back and pray you never need to call us.
Sam: I'll pray I never need to call you. Sure.

Grandpa: Anything in here that might pass for after-shave?
Sam: How about some Windex, Grandpa?
Grandpa: Yeah, let me try some of that. [slaps some on] Not bad!

David: Michael wants to know what's going on. Marco, what's going on?
Marko: I don't know. What's going on, Paul?
Paul: Wait a minute. Who wants to know?
Dwayne: Michael wants to know.

Edgar: You did the right thing by calling us. Does your brother sleep a lot?
Sam: Yeah, all day.
Alan: Does the sunlight freak him out?
Sam: Uh, he wears sunglasses in the house.
Edgar: Bad breath, long fingernails?
Sam: Yeah, his fingernails are a little bit longer, um, he always had bad breath though.
Alan: He's a vampire all right.
Edgar: All right, here's what you do, get your self a good sharp stake and drive it right through his heart.
Sam: I can't do that, he's my brother.
Alan: Okay, we'll come over and do it for you.
Sam: No!
Edgar: You'd better get yourself a garlic T-shirt, buddy, or it's your funeral.

[Michael is floating outside Sam's window.]
Michael: Open up!
Sam: Stay back!
Michael: Sammy, help me! Open up! Help me! Sammy, open the window!
Sam: Never! I knew it!
Michael: I'm not!
Sam: So what are you, the flying nun?

Edgar: We've been aware of some very serious vampire activity in town for a long time.
Alan: Santa Carla has become a haven for the undead.
Edgar: As a matter of fact, we're almost certain that ghouls and werewolves occupy high position at City Hall.
Alan: Kill your brother, you'll feel better!

Edgar: Where's Nosferatu?
Sam: Who?
Edgar: The Prince of Darkness.
Alan: The night crawler. The bloodsucker. El Vampiro.
Sam: Mike! They're here.

Michael: Look, this isn't a comic book, Sam, these guys are brutal killers.
Sam: So are the Frog brothers!

Michael: If something happens down there, I won't have the strength to protect you.
Sam: This time I'll protect you. Even though you're a vampire, You're still my brother.
Edgar: If you try to stop us, or vamp out in any way, I'll stake you without even thinking twice about it!
Sam: Chill out, Edgar.
Edgar: Yeah, come on!
Michael: Where did you say you met these guys?

Edgar: We're on the right trail. Flies and the undead go together, like bullets and guns. Come on!
Sam: What's that smell?
Edgar: Vampires, my friend. Vampires.

Alan: We blew it, man! We lost it!
Edgar: Shut up!
Alan: We unraveled in the face of the enemy!
Edgar: It's not our fault. They pulled a mind-scramble on us! They opened their eyes and talked!

[Sam shoots an arrow at Dwayne, and misses.]
Dwayne: You missed, sucker.
Sam: Only once, pal.
[Sam shoots again, pinning Dwayne against the stereo]
Sam: Death by stereo!

Edgar: We trashed the one who looks like Twisted Sister!
Alan: Totally anniliated his night-stalking ass!

Edgar: Death to all vampires! Maximum body count. We are awesome monster bashers!
Alan: The meanest!
Edgar: The baddest!

Michael: You afraid to face me, David?
David: I tried to make you immortal.
Michael: You tried to make me a killer!
David: You are a killer! My turn. Stop fighting me, Michael. I don't want to kill you. Join us.
Michael: Never!
David: It is too late, my blood is in your veins.
Michael: So is mine!

Max: Don't ever invite a vampire into your house, you silly boy. It renders you powerless.
[Sam turns to Edgar and whispers.]
Sam: Did you know that?
Edgar: Of course. Everyone knows that.

Max: It was all going to be so perfect, Lucy. Just like one big happy family. Your boys. And my boys.
Edgar: Great. The bloodsucking Brady Bunch.

Mother: Dad! Dad, are you all right?
Grandpa: One thing about living in Santa Carla I never could stomach. All the damn vampires.

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