Slugs, muerte viscosa
1988
Mike Brady: Now maybe, just maybe, we're dealing with a mutant form of slug here, a kind that eats meat!
Frank Phillips: You don't have the authority to declare Happy Birthday!
Mike Brady: Sheriff, you don't mind if I smoke do you? Sheriff Reese: I sure as hell do, Brady. You can muck up your own lungs if you want but don't mess with mine, goddammit. Sheriff Reese: (Brady throws his cigarettes out the window) Today's your lucky day, Brady. Mike Brady: Oh really, why's that? Sheriff Reese: Littering's a $500 fine in this state, don't let me catch you doing it again. Mike Brady: Sheriff, you know what they found in those candies you're eating? Rat shit and maggot's eggs! Sheriff Reese: (Sheriff spits the candy out the window) Pfffttt! Mike Brady: Oh, now sheriff... littering! That's a $500 fine! Sheriff Reese: Son of a bitch.
Kim Brady: Did you hear? About Harold and Jean Morris? Mike Brady: Nope, why? Kim Brady: They're dead. Mike Brady: Ah, come on now... Kim Brady: Yeah, I heard it on the news. There was some sort of explosion in their greenhouse. They were both inside. Mike Brady: Wha-Wait a second, how'd this happen? Kim Brady: No one knows. Mike Brady: Ah, Jesus. They were nice people. I liked them a lot. Kim Brady: I know, I did too. Mike Brady: (long pause as Brady looks down at the garden) So what are you doing out here anyway?