Stella: [Stamping toward the hedge, getting into her "firing" position] All right, Steve... you brought this on yourself!
Tiger: Shoo, go on, get away from here. My owner does not give scraps to common strays.
Stella: Common strays? Alright, you asked for it...
[turns and raises rear]
RJ: [whispers] Get the collar!
Stella: Gee, that's a nice collar you got on. Mind if I have a look?
Tiger:
No-no-no-no-no! Come no closer! I must not be so near a creature of the outdoor woods.
[sneezes]
Tiger: Away with your filth!
Stella: My filth? My *filth*?
Penny: Oh jeepers here we go.
Stella: Okay, that's it. I'm sick and tired of everybody taking one look at me and running away 'cause they
think I'm filthy. Well I got news for you: I didn't get primped and preened to have some overfed, pompous puffball tell me he's too good for me. I've got makeup on my *butt*, dude! And you don't even want to know about the cork!
Tiger: Stop! No one has *ever* spoken to me like that!
[others gasp]
Tiger: It is bold... I like it.
Stella: Yeah? Well, there's more where that came from, uh... puffball!
[Leads him away from the door]
Tiger: You're strong. Your essence is overpowering.
Stella: [pushes tail down] Wh-what do you mean by that?
Tiger: It is your eyes.
Stella: My eyes?
Tiger: They are... luminous.
Stella: Luminous... Dang.
Vincent: RJ? The moon's not full yet...
[notices RJ has his food]
Vincent: RJ. Don't tell me you're dumb enough to come up here and steal my stuff. RJ? I'm gonna have to kill you.
[Advances on RJ]
RJ: WAIT! The food is still in the cave, so technically, not stolen!
[accidentally bumps into the wagon, sending it
down the hill]
RJ: Oh no, no, no, no! STOP!
[the wagon stops, RJ and Vincent chuckle nervously at each other until a truck destroys the wagon and food]
RJ: Please, Vincent! I'm just a desperate guy trying to feed his family!
Vincent: You don't have a family, RJ.
RJ: I meant a family of one.
Lou: Hey, Verno. I took a few clippings out of my quills to do a little comparison. Look at this, the grass seems to be greener over here.
RJ: And there they are. America's most coveted cookies. Love Handles, Skinny Mints, Neener-Neeners, and Smackeroons. And guess what? They're all yours!
[Hammy jumps, but RJ stops him]
RJ: Whoa, Hamilton. Hold on there, fella. I love your energy, but you just can't take them.
Hammy the Squirrel: But you just said they're mine.
RJ: They will be, if we successfully marry your manic energy to my brilliant plan. You with me, kid?
Hammy the Squirrel: I... I... I...
RJ: The ayes have it. Let's ride.
RJ: Now listen, champ. Okay, what we're goin' for here is a vicious, man-eating, rabid squirrel. Can you handle that?
Hammy the Squirrel: Umm, excuse me!
[Raises hand]
RJ: Yes, Hammy?
Hammy the Squirrel: Rabbits aren't vicious. They're all cute and cuddly, so...
RJ: *Rabid*, not
rabbit.
Hammy the Squirrel: Oh! Huh?
Dwayne: [after shooting the head off a plastic flamingo] Arrrgh! Not again! Those things are so lifelike! Curse you, plastic moldsmen.
Dwayne: I believe someone phoned about an animal problem? The solution is standing before you. Dwayne LaFontaine is here.
Gladys: Where have you been? I am throwing a Welcome to the Neighborhood party tomorrow, and so far, Debbie's car has killed more animals than you have.
Dwayne: Stand down, sister. I personally guarantee that
there won't be a living thing at this party. The Verminator is on the job.