— May I have the salt?
— What do we say?
— Now.
You're a desperate woman, consumed by greed and bitterness. We could have been such friends.
Last night, you were unhinged. You were like some desperate howling demon. You frightened me. Do it again.
— You are too precious for words. Why, I could just eat you alive.
— Oh, no, Margaret. Too young.
— Don't they make a handsome couple?
— He's a man; she's a woman: perfect match.
And, dear Fester, which is the real you — the loathsome, underhanded monster you've become or the loathsome, underhanded monster we came to love?
Your beloved Muerto. After you left, he was simply a different vulture. He wouldn't circle. He wouldn't peck. That's how much you mean to this family.
— Oh, Gomez. The Bermuda Triangle!
— Devil's Island.
— The black hole of Calcutta.
— Excuse us.
— Second honeymoon...
Psychopaths...fiends... mad-dog killers. Brutes, Fester. Pioneers. Lest we forget.
- 1
- 2