Cindy Campbell

— Wait, wait, wait. Shouldn't we at least check his wallet?
— For what?
— Shit, he might have some money. We already committed murder. We might as well rob his ass.
— I'll take the credit cards.
— I want his jewellery.
— I'm going to take his drawers.
— Get off. Hey, yo, get off. His drawers are mine. Hey, yo.

— I'm in the house. Do you know where I am? I could be anywhere. I'm like the wind, baby. Yeah. Where am I?
— You're-you're behind the couch.
— What? How do you know that?
— I can, see your feet.

— Dad, can you knock?
— Knock? I thought I heard screaming in here.
— No. No, you didn't, Dad.
— Well, it could've been that crack I smoked earlier, I guess.

— Greg, you're not the only one who got one.
— Oh, you mean Bobby's got a baby dick too?
— No. I was talking about the note.

— I was, home watching «The Exorcist», and it got me thinking about you.
— If this is about the time I puked green slime and masturbated with a crucifix... It was my first keg party, Bobby.