Frankie: That's right. Come on, get your stuff. We don't have to be afraid anymore. Mr. Miller, there's a rake with your name on it.
Rita Glossner: All right, that's it. I am calling the police.
Frankie: No, you're not. [Rita holds up her cell phone as Frankie tries to grab it] You know what? Go ahead, call them. I'm sure they'd be very interested in all this stuff. Hey, Mrs. Leedy. Well, look what we have here. The lawn chair you thought disappeared.
Rita Glossner: She may have one like it, but this is mine.
Frankie: Mrs. Leedy, is this your lawn chair?
Mrs. Leedy: I... I...
Frankie: Mrs. Leedy, is this or is this not your lawn chair? Tell the truth or lose our neighborhood forever.
Mrs. Leedy: Oh. Yes! Yes, it's my lawn chair!
Frankie: It's my neighborhood now! Come on.
Rita Glossner: Well, I might be pregnant with a pro basketball player's kid. I'm gonna be out of this town soon anyway.