Malcolm: Dad, you don't believe in ghosts, do you?
Hal: Malcolm, please.
Malcolm: Do you?
Hal: Do you mean do I believe in dead people floating around, saying, "Ooooh!" Of course not. [chuckles] But, I mean, an energy, a life force, a soul that, upon death, separates from the body and inhabits another plane, crying out to the living in a horrific wail of unbearable pain? Oh, absolutely.
Malcolm: Dad.
Hal: You, yourself, told me that string theory says there are 11 different dimensions occupying the same space.
Malcolm: So?
Hal: So, who's to say we can't be affected by things we don't see? What science calls wormholes is actually matter and energy, mixed together... [Jamie returns home alone] All of which points to one stubborn, undeniable fact that we are living in a known portal for evil. And now that we know it, and it knows we know it, of course it would come back to kill us! And of course it would come back tonight! You don't have much to say when your science comes back at you, do you? [clattering] Honey? Reese? Dewey? Burglar? [Jamie crawls into the vent] Was that or was that not the sound of someone looking for his head?!