- Martin: Eggs. You have any eggs?
- Mrs. Bates: Eggs?
- Martin: Oval spheroids deposited through the rectum of the domestic fowl.
- Martin: Sick. Sick. People in metal boxes. They don't know the taste of blood in their mouths. They don't know the glory of the hunt, as I know it; as demons know it. I must buy some mints to hide the smell of sulphur. I've got him!
- Mrs. Bates: Well all I know is, we need something or someone to save us or I should...
- [the doorbell chimes]
- Mr. Tom Bates: Whoever can that be?
- Mrs. Bates: Only one way to find out...
- [she gets up]
- Mr. Tom Bates: Don't go, Amy. Don't open it.
- Mrs. Bates: Why ever not, Tom?
- Mrs. Bates: It might be a Jehovah's witness, or something.
- Mrs. Bates: Well even that would be better than nothing
- [she opens the door]