the car and go to the lake. Just get away and rest. You should see yourself. You were up at dawn watching a dog poop. You call going up to the lake resting? It is four hours of driving on the tollway in holiday traffic... to sit in some dank, wet cabin... and wait for that neighbour with the enormous head... to get drunk and fall down. He's a hydrocephalic. I don't think that you should make fun of him. Honey, that's not my idea of restful. This is restful: Hanging around the house, just being lazy. That's what I want to do. I just wanna... hang around. Be lazy, listen to the ball game... and drink a couple hundred beers. Smoke an occasional cigar... outside. I'll fix the barbecue in the backyard. I'll do that. This is what I need, Carol. I need... this. And at the end of the week, I'll be a brand new human being. It's your vacation. Shh! Quiet. Art's got a gun. Art! Hey, hi, Ray. Are you guys eatin'in there? You know how Suzette is about her bird feeder. These crows start showing up out of nowhere. She's all over my back to get rid of'em. "The crows are too big for the bird feeder," she says. - I don't remember seeing crows around here before. - Oh, big bastards too. That's why I got the gun. I'm gonna pop a few. Why didn't you go with Suzette to her mother's? Hey, I'm eating here. Can you imagine me and the two of them alone for a week? I'd rather chew broken glass. Uh-uh, this is gonna be a big week for the bachelor kid. Vince. Vince. How come you're not at work, Ray? - I took the week off. - A week off? That's great. Are you guys going to the lake or something? - No, the backyard. - Backyard? I just want to hang around the house and relax. Relax? Good luck with those maniacs you got living next door. - Have you met the Klopeks yet? - No. No, I haven't. Nobody on the block has. But I did talk to the real estate broad that sold them the place. Apparently, their last house only burnt to the ground. - Really? - Yep. A hideous, raging inferno. Neighbours from hell. Maybe. Whatever it is, I'm glad I'm not the one who lives right next door. Come on, let's face it. These Klopeks are strange. I've been watching that house ever since they moved in. No one goes in. No one comes out. No visitors. No deliveries. What do you think they're eatin', Ray? Well, maybe these people Just want to keep to themselves, Art. Remember when the Knapps lived next door? How many conversations did you have with the Knapps? I had two. - Oh, come on. - They didn't even say goodbye when they moved. Oh, please. Don't even compare the two. At least, if they weren't conversational... the Knapps were semi-normal. They worked in their yard. They mowed their lawn. They had a lawn to mow. These Klopeks... We don't even know how many of them there are. There are three of them. They only come out at night. Ricky Butler says they're nocturnal feeders. Oh, Ricky Butler says. Last week when I was up on the roof with my telescope... I saw them in their backyard. - What were they doing, honey? - Digging. - Kind of like grave diggers? - Maybe. All right, that's enough of this conversation. I want you to stop spying on the Klopeks with Ricky Butler. And I'd like you to stop filling his head with such half-cocked theories. - Where you goin'? - I'm gonna change into my vacation togs. Are you done with your eggs? I'm gonna mix the zinnias in with the rest of the flowers. The man at the nursery said... - Boy, that really burns my ass. - What? That old fart. He's got the best lawn on the block. And you know why? Because he trains his dog to crap in my yard. Hey, Mrs Rumsfield. No tan lines this morning. Looks nice. That kid next door is a meatball. Peterson. He came out in his robe last night when the foreigners were making that racket. He didn't do one thing. So, what are you gonna do first? I don't know. - Hey, did I show
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