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!

Frankie: [v.o.] You may wonder why we didn't get the ball. Because there was no way we were stepping foot in that yard. Every neighborhood has one. You know, a family that's just not worth tangling with? Well, in our neighborhood, it was the Glossners. Four unruly hooligans who'd held our street hostage for as long as I can remember. Whatever hell they rained on you, you took it, because retaliating only made it worse. But as bad as those Glossner boys were...
Frankie: Hey, hey, hey. Put... Hey... You...
Frankie: [v.o.] ...it was the mom you really didn't wanna mess with.
Rita Glossner: Is there a problem here?
Frankie: [v.o.] Yeah, there's a problem. That Amazon scares the hell out of me.
Frankie: No, no. We're good.
Rita Glossner: All right, then. [takes Frankie's newspaper]
Frankie: Hey, uh, that's mine.
Rita Glossner: Really? It was right here on the curb. You own the whole outdoors, do you, princess?
Frankie: No, of course not. I... You have a nice day.
[Rita flicks her cigarette into the Hecks' yard. As she walks away, she crushes a beer can and throws it back into the yard.]

Sue: The Glossners stole our boom box.
Frankie: Oh, well. We have too many possessions anyway. We're trying to simplify.
Sue: I tried talking to them about their dog, then Carly and I got into this fight with them.
Frankie: Wait. You got into a fight?
Sue: Yeah. We had this whole routine planned and everything.
Mike: "Routine"? What do you mean, "routine"?
Sue: Well, we worked up some choreography and...
Mike: Hang on. Choreography? For a fight?
Sue: Yeah. That's what the boom box was for. We played "Kung Fu Fighting."
Mike: You do know what a fight is, don't you?
Sue: Of course. And they didn't even let us get to the synchronized cartwheels. We worked really hard on it too. [scoffs]

Axl: All right. You kicked a ball. Now, where's my report?
Brick: I even misspelled "harpoon" so she'll think you wrote it.
Axl: Wait a minute. Where's the rest? This is supposed to be, like, 20 pages.
Brick: It was fun when you taught me how to kick a ball. So every time you're nice and play with me, you get another page.
Axl: What? That wasn't the deal.
Brick: Feel free to do the report yourself.
Axl: Okay, fine. [opens the book] How about a sandwich? Do you want a sandwich?
Brick: Peanut butter, no crust.

Rita Glossner: What do you think you're doing?
Frankie: This is the Donahues' ball.
Rita Glossner: Hey, stop that.
Frankie: And these are the Webers'.
Rita Glossner: Hey.
Frankie: Come and get your balls, Jimmy.
Rita Glossner: Where's that damn dog when you need him? Razorblade! Come on out here, boy. We got trespassers.

Frankie: [v.o.] You wouldn't know to look at us, but we're all afraid of different things. Now, some people are afraid of spiders. Some are afraid of flying. Others, death. But at our house...
Brick: I have to kick a ball.
Frankie: [v.o.] Okay, the kickball unit in gym isn't one of your classic fears, but in Brick's case it was justified.
Frankie: Well, we already said you had mono during your lacrosse unit. We played the swine flu card to get you out of Presidential Fitness Testing. You're gonna have to face your fears on this one, Brick.
Brick: Everyone's gonna laugh at me. [whispers] Laugh at me.

Mike: Okay, buddy, grab a ball. I'm gonna show you how it's done.
Frankie: Um, Mike? You think that's such a good idea? Maybe I should do it.
Mike: All he's gotta do is raise his foot. I saw a donkey do it on the news. How hard can it be?
[later, as Mike returns home with a ball:]
Mike: Big, fat waste of time.
Frankie: [v.o.] While Mike was unwinding with a beer in the shower, I was gonna teach Brick to kick a ball as only a mother can.

Frankie: Sue, are you okay?
Sue: The Glossners' dog, it's loose. It tried to chase me home. I lost a shoe. Oh, God, now it has my scent.
Mike: Oh, no, the Glossners' dog?
Frankie: We should do something.
Mike: We really should.
Frankie: [v.o.] For days, that dog was out terrorizing the neighborhood. [man yells] [dog barks]
Frankie: We should do something.
Mike: We really should.
[Frankie reverses the car from the garage down to the mail box to grab the mail:]
Man: [dog barks] Get out of here. Go home. Get out of here. Get out of here. You're tearing it up. Go home.
[later:]
Frankie: We should do something.
Mike: We really should.

Rodney Glossner: I'm surprised you showed up.
Sue: I'm surprised you showed up.
Carly: Good one.
Derrick Glossner: Let's do this.
Sue: Hold on just one sec.
Rodney Glossner: What are you doing?
Sue: We're fighting.
["Kung Fu Fighting" by Carl Douglas plays. After watching Sue and Carly dance for a few moments, Rodney and Derrick knock them down and take the boom box]

Frankie: Oh, my God. You know, it's time to take a stand. Here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna write an anonymous letter to the police telling them about the dog. Then I'll drive to Lafayette under cloak of darkness, and mail it when nobody's looking so the stamp can't be traced to us. And I'll seal the envelope with a sponge so they can't ID us by our saliva.
Mike: Or I could go over and talk to them.
Frankie: That's crazy. We have a good life here, Mike. I don't wanna move.
Mike: I'm not gonna let our daughter fight our fights. What kind of example are we setting? It's humiliating. Even more than the, you know, fighting to music.