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A post-apocalyptic tale based on a novella by Harlan Ellison. A boy communicates telepathically with his dog as they scavenge for food and sex, and they stumble into an underground society ... See full summary »
Blood: Well, I'd certainly say she had marvelous judgment, Albert, if not particularly good taste.
Lou Craddock: Lack of respect, wrong attitude, failure to obey authority.
Blood: Pull up your pants, Romeo.
Blood: I hope the next time you play with yourself, you go blind.
Blood: You know, Albert, sometimes you can be such a putz... Vic: A putz? What's a putz? It's somethin' bad, isn't it? You better take that back or I'm gonna kick your fuzzy butt! Blood: [sighs] Yep, definitely a putz.
Lou Craddock: Let's get another Michael out of the warehouse. This time make sure the engineering department wipes that smile off his face.
Blood: A cautous young fellow named Lodge / Had seatbelts installed in his Dodge. / When his date was strapped in / He committed a sin / Without even leaving the garage. That's clever, isn't it?
Lou Craddock: When we put this in, then we'll add that.
Blood: Now let's run through the modern Presidents. Vic: What good's all this history crap gonna do me? Blood: Just do the Presidents. Vic: Oh, God! Eisenhower, Truman... Blood: TRUMAN, Eisenhower! Vic: Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, Ford, Kennedy, Kennedy, Kennedy...
Blood: Breeding is an ugly thing.
Vic: [to sentry] If my gun picks up one rust spot you're gonna wake up with a crowd around 'ya.
Vic: Hell! They didn't have to cut her! She could have been used two or three more times! Blood: Ah, war is hell.