Frankie: Hey, I'm reaching out here, trying to be a good neighbor. All I want...
Rita Glossner: Ha. There it is. I knew you came here wanting something. Just like that handsy husband of yours.
Frankie: That was an accident.
Rita Glossner: What do you want?
Frankie: I'll tell you what I want. I want my kids to be able to play in the front yard without having to run from your psycho dog. I wanna be able to plant shrubs knowing they aren't gonna be yanked out of the ground. I finally wanna put a damn pumpkin out and know it's actually gonna make it to Halloween. [Rita tries to close the door] Hey, I came over here hoping that we had more similarities than differences. But you know what? We don't.
Rita Glossner: Oh. So you think you're better than me?
Frankie: You haven't set the bar very high. The whole neighborhood is better than you. You know why? Because we don't let our kids blow up mailboxes or beat people up or steal.
Rita Glossner: My boys don't do that.
Frankie: Really? Look around, Rita. None of this is yours.
Rita Glossner: People give my boys lots of stuff. They're charismatic.
Frankie: They're bullies. And you're a bully. And we've all been too scared to do anything about it. But not anymore, missy!