(Karl has entered the bedroom carrying a hammer)
Doyle: What in the hell you doin' with that hammer?
Karl: I don't rightly know. I just kinda woke up a-holding it.
Doyle: (to Linda) What the fuck you think he's doin' with that hammer?
Doyle: What am I supposed to do about supper while you're out runnin' around with that fag?
Linda: You're not crippled, get in there and make it yourself.
Doyle: Talkin' back and everything. That kinda makes me horny, Linda.
Linda: Frank, maybe you better go play in your room if Doyle's gonna talk nasty.
Frank: I don't wanna go play in my room.
Doyle: He don't wanna go play in his room. Let's all just sit here and be a family. Until your mentally retarded friend and your homosexual friend get here.
Marsha Dwiggins: Where will he go?
Dr. Jerry Woolridge: I think he's going back to Millsburg.
Marsha Dwiggins: Will he be supervised?
Dr. Jerry Woolridge: About as much as everyone else, I guess.
Vaughan Cunningham: I don't understand.
Morris: Exactly the point, my young level-headed friend.
Vaughan Cunningham: I don't get it.
Morris: Well, I rest my case.
Karl: I don't think anything bad ought to happen to children. I think the bad stuff should be saved up for the people whose grown up. That's the way I see it.
Frank: Mama's got a boyfriend now. His name is Doyle Hargraves. He works construction so he makes a pretty good living, but he don't help Mama out with any money though. He ain't no good. He's mean to her. He don't like me at all. Mama says it's 'cause he's jealous that I belong to my Daddy instead of him. He spends the night at our house sometimes and he's got his own house, somebody told me it's where he can have more girlfriends. I like it on the nights he ain't at our house. I ain't so nervous then.
Karl: How come her still being girlfriends and all with him if he's mean to her?
Frank: She says it's for the times he's good to her. She's lonely since Daddy died, sometimes she says she don't know why. He threatened to kill her if she ever left him. My daddy would kill him if he were still here and somebody was mean to Mama. Vaughan, he's real good to Mama. Vaughan that you met. But he's not able to do anything to Doyle. He's funny, you know. Not funny "Ha-Ha", funny queer. He likes to go with men instead of women. That makes him not able to fight too good. He sure is nice, though. He's from St. Louis, people who are queer get along better in a big town. I wish he liked to go with women, I'd rather he be Mama's boyfriend than Doyle.
Doyle: (to Vaughan and Karl) Hey! I said get out of my house! That goes for cocksuckers and retards! Now get up off your asses'n go! Go on!
Linda: This is not your house, Doyle. This is my house and I decide who goes and who stays. You got a house, why don't you get some of your girlfriends and go home to it?
Doyle: You know better than to talk to me like that when I'm hurtin', Linda. Don't make me knock the piss outta you.
Vaughan Cunningham: Don't you touch her.
Doyle: That's funny, Vaughan. Linda, go to bed and take little snot-nose here with you.
Linda: You're not staying here tonight. Go get sober before you come back, I'm tired of my child seeing this. Now you get your ass straight or I'll lock your ass out of my life for good.
Doyle: If you even think about leaving me, Linda, I told you: I'm gonna kill you deader than a door nail.
Linda: That might be better than this.
Vaughan Cunningham: All right, I'm a witness. I heard you threatening her.
Doyle: Hey, you get the
Doyle: fuck out now!
Dr. Jerry Woolridge: I won't lie to you. He did get into that trouble a while ago, but then we has young.
Bill Cox: I remember well. He cut those folks to pieces and his Mama was one of them.
Scooter: And that old Dixon boy. Oh, hell, I always wanted to kill him myself. Asshole's what he was. But I remember that ol' boy too. Kinda retarded or somethin', back in school.
Doyle: If y'all don't shut up, I'm gonna go out of my mind. Besides, Karl here is liable to bust his spring. He's already off balance.
Karl: Some folks call it a sling blade, I call it a Kaiser blade.
Vaughan Cunningham: (about potted meat) They aren't moving too well, but I'll tell you what, I'll give a couple cans free to the right kid.
Frank: I don't like potted meat. Daddy used to say they was made out of lips, peckers and intestines.
Linda: Frank, don't talk that way.
Linda: Who's that strange looking man? He follow you in here?
Vaughan: Have you knocked on the door yet?
Karl: No, Sir, not yet.
Vaughan: How long have you been standing here?
Karl: Quite a spell, I reckon.
Karl: Reckon what you like to eat in there?
Frosty Cream Employee: Well, the French fries are pretty good.
Karl: French fried potaters?
Frosty Cream Employee: Yeah, French fries.
Karl: How much you want for'em?
Frosty Cream Employee: They're .60 for medium and .75 for large.
Karl: 'Reckon I'll have me some of the big 'uns.
Frosty Cream Employee: All right, then, one large French fries?
(Karl is silent; Frosty Cream Employee walks to the back never taking his eyes off Karl)
Doyle: Frank's a weak little kid. His daddy taught him how to be a pussy.
Frank: Stop it, Doyle! Don't talk about my daddy.
Doyle: "Don't talk about my daddy". Go on and get up outta here. Go out to the garage and let me be. Go on now, get!
Terence: We wrote one last night outside the mini mart. Morris called it "Stuart Drives A Comfortable Car" and then like in country songs, you know, in parentheses it says "There's Usually Someone in the Trunk." And, and um, I came up with a tune just a hummin'.
Doyle: See, you don't want to question the genius, Vaughan. Morris here is a modern-day poet, kinda like in olden times.
Morris: Yeah, I got a new tune in composition entitled "The Thrill." And it goes somethin' like this: "I stand on the hill, not for a thrill, but for the breath of a fresh kill. Never mind the man who contemplates doin' away with license plates. He stands alone, anyhow, bakin' the cookies of discontent by the heat of the laundromat vent. Leavin' his soul!" Then like in poetry I go dot-dot-dot, you know, kinda off center, then I drop down and then I go: "Leavin' his soul! And partin' the waters of the medulla oblongata of - -brrrrrr! - -mankind!" That was a damn good song, wasn't it Doyle?