How to Kill Your Neighbor's Dog
2000
Larry: You're lucky. You got Melanie. There are men who'd die for her. Peter McGowan: Yeah, die for her, or have her kill you. Either way, you're dead. Larry: Still having trouble satiating, are we? Peter McGowan: I think the doorbell's heard my wife shout "I'm coming" more than I have these days.
(Larry is dressed as a priest) Peter McGowan: Can I have a valediction, father? Larry: Say four holy Fuck You's and keep drinking.
Peter McGowan: Are you drunk or something? Larry: What time is it? Peter McGowan: Four. Larry: Yep.
Victoria: You're an alcoholic. Adam: Alcoholics have class. I'm a fucking drunk.
Peter McGowen: ... but maybe that's everything in writing--a catchy title. Debra Salhany: So is that why you decided to call your first novel How to Kill Your Neighbor's Dog? Peter McGowen: Oh, that isn't mere affectation. That's a practical guidebook full of juicy bits on suburban terrorism. Debra Salhany: ... but, uh, what if somebody reads this and goes out and kills their neighbor's dog? Peter McGowen: Oh, well, what are you gonna do?
Debra Salhany: So, how did you meet your wife? Peter McGowan: She was a lap dancer, I had a pocket full of singles... No, she was a dancer. For a brief period, she gave acting a try. She came in for an audition, and the rest as they say is histrionics. Debra Salhany: So, you employed the casting couch? Peter McGowan: Hey, whatever works. You know that, Deborah.
Melanie McGowan: Other houses have M&M's, we stock up with Smarties. It's like living at the duty free-shop at Heathrow.
Adam: They say women are the sensitive ones, but I've never seen it. They're as cold as party ice. Victoria: I don't think that sucking on countless nipples makes one an authority on sensitivity.
Edna: You look just like my son-in-law. Peter McGowan: I am your son-in-law, Edna. Edna: My son-in-law's name is Peter. Peter McGowan: No. I said your name was Edna. My name is Peter. Edna: You just said your name was Edna... Edna's a funny name for a man. Been teased over the years? Peter McGowan: Mercilessly. "Pete."
(Traffic report) Laura Leeton: If the 405 is your morning route, I hope you don't have a history of showing up late to work, 'cause today you're fired.
Peter McGowan: Hollywood doesn't want writers, so much as secretaries with a flare for dialogue. If you want to be happy in Hollywood, be a cinematographer. Nobody knows what you're doing, so they can't screw with you.
(Peter is smoking) Melanie McGowan: You know, you're going to have to cut that out when the baby comes. Peter McGowan: What? Are you expecting it tonight?
Melanie McGowan: Maybe you should see a therapist about your anxiety. Peter McGowan: That's exactly what I'm afraid of. What if he cures me? Then, I'll have nothing to write about. Nobody wants to know about how happy you are. Melanie McGowan: Oh, I don't think you ever have to worry about an over-abundance of happiness, dear.
(After a prostate exam) Peter McGowan: Now I know what a muppet feels like.
Peter McGowan: Do you ever think that if you attack an artist long enough, that you'll succeed in having him censor himself?
Debra Salhany: Thanks for sticking around, Peter. Peter McGowan: Thanks for letting me be sticky, Debbie.
Laura Leeton: (traffic report) And the 5 Freeway is stopped dead... just because.
Peter McGowan: Seems to me only the intelligent people are choosing not to reproduce.
Peter McGowan: "Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to conceive." *That* is Sir Walter Scott. Melanie McGowan: Oh, really? I seem to remember that quote a bit differently.