Jonathan Parker: We can't go killing people just to get Pinker out of their bodies.
Lt. Don Parker: This is screwball beyond belief.
Woman Couch Potato: I've heard of audience participation shows, but this is ridiculous.
Executioner: [Pinker's execution] Does the prisoner have any final words?
Horace Pinker: Yeah, as a matter of fact I do:
[narrows his eyes at Jonathan]
Horace Pinker: Your pitiful memories wiped it all out, didn't it? I was beatin' you real good when your mama tried to stop me with the gun.
Lt. Don Parker: [angrily] YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH, YOU FUCK!
Executioner: [calms him down] The prisoner has a right so speak.
Horace Pinker: [grinning evily] That's right. I was beatin' you real good when your mama tried to stop me with the gun that she brought into our happy home. You must've remembered it boy. Don't you remember the way she screamed? And how clever you were picking up that gun and shootin' me right through the fuckin' knee, you little peckerhead! Oh, such a big gun, just blastin' at your dear old dad with murder in your eyes. Like father, like son, huh?
[Pinker chuckles evilly as Jonathan is shocked to hear all of this and then narrows his eyes at the Executioner]
Horace Pinker: Well what are you waiting for, dickhead? You wanna fry me, then get it over with you bunch of fuckin' insects!
Executioner: [to one of the security guards] Well, you heard the man.
Little Girl: [Trying to start bulldozer] Come on, you fucker! Move!
Horace Pinker: [singing] Time is on my side.
Lt. Don Parker: You on drugs or what?
Horace Pinker: Come on, boy, let's take a ride in my Volts Wagon.
Horace Pinker: Awww, you're breakin' my fuckin' heart!
Lt. Don Parker: [tries to restrain an angry Jonathan, after Pinker is taken away, taunting him about Allison's death] Easy now! You want him gone? Let the state do it for you! He'll fry for sure... he's history!
Jonathan Parker: [whispers miserably] I wanna be there.
Lt. Don Parker: [puzzled] What?
Jonathan Parker: [turns to face him] If they give him the chair Don, I wanna be there.
Lt. Don Parker: Don't be crazy. It's over. Now let it go.
Jonathan Parker: [shakes his head] I wanna see him die, Don. I've earned it... I wanna see him die!
Lt. Don Parker: [thinks about it and nods his head] Yeah... yeah, maybe we've both earned it. I'll get box seats.
Horace Pinker: [after biting a guard's fingers] Finger lickin' good!
Horace Pinker: Come to look death in the face, huh schoolboy?
TV Newscaster: [Jonathan and Pinker are fighting through several channels of televison] Well we still have no word from our reporter at the home of Lt. Parker. However, incredibly, we have begun to receive unconfirmed reports of unexplained "appearances" of Jonathan Parker and a man who looks very much like executed mass murderer Horace Pinker, fighting at least what appears to be...
Horace Pinker: [during a boxing match, to boxer] Kick his ass!
TV Newscaster: ...programming of several local stations during the last several minutes. However...
Horace Pinker: [Jonathan is suddenly thrown onto the news desk by Pinker and runs away. Pinker looks at the camera] And that's the way it is.
[chases after Jonathan]
TV Newscaster: [shocked] Did you get that?
Lt. Don Parker: Jesus. That chair really kicks ass.
Lt. Don Parker: It smells like the goddamn electric chair in here.
Horace Pinker: That was clever of you grabbing that gun and shooting me right through the fuckin' knee, you little peckerhead!
Horace Pinker: I eat this wimp's will power for breakfast, John-bo.
Horace Pinker: Ahh, my kind of town!
Horace Pinker: You like killing too, huh? There's nothing about it. We're killers.
Jonathan Parker: It's no good, Pinker; Alison told me the secret. Maybe you *were* my father, but you know who my father is now? You know who's responsible for me? Me; no one else.
Horace Pinker: [after being captured by the cops, Pinker taunts Jonathan] Oh by the way... she died real hard, ya know? Your girlfriend?
Jonathan Parker: [Pinker chuckles with glee and Jonathan tries to pounce on him as Lt. Parker restrains him] I'LL SEE YOU DEAD, YOU SON OF A BITCH!
Horace Pinker: So you like killin' too, huh squirt? It's in the blood... you and me, we're killers.
Jonathan Parker: YOU'LL DIE, YOU MOTHERFUCKER! I'LL SEE YOU DIE... YOU FUCKER!
Horace Pinker: [taunting] Oh, ho, ho, ho! You're breakin' my fuckin' heart!
Horace Pinker: This BarcaLounger's gonna kick your ass, boy!
Horace Pinker: [Pinker is still trapped inside the television] You bastard! Come back in here! Come back in here, you shit! Don't ever turn the TV on, boy! I'll be there! I'll be there waitin' for ya! I'll look over your shoulder, you little bastard! Come back in here! Come back!
[Jonathan grabs a remote and turns off the TV]