wait a minute, wait a minute!
ralph houk! you can't bet a manager! stone the crows!
piss on him. piss on all the red sox.
let the boy finish the game, nan.
three kings.
bullshit luck!
i come here because marty needs a friend.
you all right, marty?
there's a saying- so-and-so was better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. you ever hear that one?
well, i'm not sure that was. christ! they better get the guy.
huh?
a bunch of men getting ready to pretend they're clint eastwood.  marty, didn't anybody ever tell you that the only monsters are in comic books and drive-in movies?
marty, you have to get this idea out of your head. psychotics are more active when the moon is full, and this guy is a psycho. he's going to turn out to be as human as you or me. in a manner of speaking. now let's get you inside.
and the fireworks. hand me that box, marty.
it's just an outward symbol of everything that's inwardly wrong in this town. not bad, huh? i read sherwood anderson in college. i can jive that shit all day.
i'll give you the telephone numbers of my ex-wives, dear boy- they'll be interested to hear that.
but you are, you know- you are my dear boy.
look at this.
your mom's not around, is she?
uh-huh. only in her case i guess it would be queen shit of turd mountain. hand me that adjustable.
the guy killed your best friend, drove your girl out of town, and stole the second-best holiday in the year. have i got it right?
yeah, winesburg, ohio, was never like that.  but i got something that just might cheer you up.
wait, dear boy. just wait. hand me those pliars.
all is cool, marty-boy. go for it.
jesus! not too much!
you got a pilot's license, marty?
we're gonna find out. take it down the road a ways and back. be careful.
you gave me a heart attack, marty. i'm dying. i hope you're happy, because you are looking at a dying man.
it goes fast, all right- and if your mother finds out just how fast, marty, i will have a new job. singing soprano with the vienna boys' choir.
i know you don't. but i want this to be our secret. you get that, don't you?
good.
i've got to go, nan- i had a wonderful time.
see me around to my car, marty, and make sure i stay out of trouble at least that long.
now i said i had something for you, as i believe you will recall.
you're gonna have the fourth of july in october, marty. just don't blow your head off. and remember that it isn't just the fireworks. it's because no crazy shithead should be able to stop the good guys, if you can dig that.
stay near the house, for christ's sake- someone's killing people. i have to be out of my mind to be doing this, you know.
one of the reasons i love you, marty, is that you're almost as crazy as i am. please don't set off anything that goes bang tonight, okay? just bright colors. can you tell the difference?
save this one for last.
a tracer. you'll like it.
you're welcome a million, marty. stick 'em in the bushes for now.
you dreamed it, marty.
there are no such things as werewolves. please, dear boy, have some pity.
obscene phone caller. go back to sleep.
holy-jumped-up-baldheaded-jesus-christ!
i called peltzer on my way over here, marty! father lowe came into the drugstore two days ago for a bottle of otic solution. that's a fancy way of saying eyewash. he's got a corneal inflammation.
what the hell does that matter?
marty, marty, you should hear yourself!
i don't know. but i know you didn't see any werewolf the other night, marty. you had a dream, that's all. an extremely realistic nightmare brought on by what's been happening in this town.
you want to know what i think?
watch it, dear boy. i think it was a hallucination. probably a broomstick, or something.
no thank you, jane. i'm a little old for palying the hardy boys meet the catholic werewolf.
i don't accept the idea that he knows who his letter writer is, jane. because i don't accept the idea that there was a big bad wolf who saw marty in his wheelchair.
marty, do you see your suspect?
do you really think that a man who took a rocket in the eye three nights ago could be out mowing his lawn? he'd either be in the hospital.  or dead.
when he was a werewolf. yes. right. jesus. jane, you don't really believe this madness, do you?
kids!
well.  it's a lot easier to swallow without the hair and the foaming jaws. also, i checked on the otic solution. it was counter brand. no prescription needed.
shut up, dear boy- no gloating allowed.
after marty called me with his latest thrilling tale of wonder, i did. he's had no poison-pen complaints lodged at all.
i probably shouldn't tell you- you're both hysterical on the subject. i'm starting to feel like a guy handing out free arthur murray coupons to victims of the dancing sickness.
no.  but i found some blood, smeared on a tree trunk in that grove.
it could have been anything, marty.
no.
lowe's car-?
jesus.
i know. i could have edited out all of the completely crazy stuff, but i thought you deserved to hear it with the bark on.
let's just say i believe lester lowe should be checked out.
and what do you suggest i do about it, dear boy?
you're not going to let it go, are you?
marty, the moon wasn't even full!
would you kids mind telling me how this guy lowe became a werewolf to begin with?
the kid is eleven years old and already he sounds like a jesuit. a french jesuit.
dear boy, you have gone right out of your mind.
all right. i give up. yes.
if either of you ever tells anyone i even bought a piece of this story, werewolves will be the least of your problems.
it's just a gag, that's all. what would you shoot a silver .22 bullet at, anyway?
-and babcock, i remember. now go on!
we won't!
if you keep doing that, you're going to bump your head, sissy. give my love to mama- tell her i'll see her thursday.
can i tell you kids something?
when me and sissy were kids, we were just like you two.
yeah. really. the bitch of it is, we still are. learn from your elders, dearies.
i suppose so. you kids ought to go up to bed.
i know what i said, marty- but it's ten past one. he's not coming.
damn near. now i'll sit up with this stupid gun in my lap because i promised, but you two are going to bed. go on, now, scoot.
then i'd have to kick your ass, dear boy. go on, now.
see, dear boy? totally unimpaired.
a very familiar feeling is beginning to creep over me.
i feel like a horse's ass.
would you kids go to bed? my head's starting to ache.
jane, it's just a power fai-
if it isn't now, it will be after i pound one of your mother's silver candlesticks through its heart.