Look at me, I’m Sandra Dee!
Look, now you’ve got two dates. What about Sandra, you bigamist?
So, you were having sex with the little fellow, then.
You were gonna ask me for money. Who the hell do you think you’re dealing with? Some old slut on 42nd Street? In case you didn’t happen to notice it - you big Texas longhorn bull - I’m one hell of a gorgeous chick!
Men would pay $200 for me, and here you are turning down a freebie. You could get a perfectly good dishwasher for that.
Edwina’s insides were a rocky place where my seed could find no purchase.
Beethoven was deaf. Helen Keller was blind. I think Rocky’s got a good chance.
The pain and sickness all over me like an animal. Then I realized what it was. The music coming up from the floor was our old friend, Ludwig Van, and the dreaded Ninth Symphony.
No. That was Mozart.
Okay. Put down Zombie Mozart, Bach, and Beethoven this instant.
The thing about livin’ in Santa Clara I never could stomach. All the damn vampires.
Bela, I agree with you 100%. Now, “Dracula,” that’s a role that requires talent.
Sweet little act you have: you soften them up with all that smarmy concern, and along comes Dracula here and polishes them off!
Well, strangely enough, Van Helsing takes his vampires quite seriously.
[sucking blood off his fingers] It’s finger-lickin’ GOOD!
I know you’ve got a civil tongue in your head; I sewed it there myself.
Why are you talking this bullshit? Maybe I have Ramon and Caesar staple your tongue to your chin.
People always mean well. They cluck their thick tongues, and shake their heads and suggest, oh, so very delicately!
These things must be done delicately or you’ll hurt the spell.
Linda! Hi, it’s Sally. I’m activating the phone tree. Look, uh, you know the - the stuff that everyone’s always whispering about me… the hexes, the spells, the…? Well, here’s the thing. Uh… I’m a witch!