Casey: Listen asshole!
Phone Voice: No you listen to me you little bitch! You hang up on me again and I'll gut you like a fish!
Deputy Dewey Riley: He's my superior!
Tatum: Janitor is your superior.
Sidney Prescott: You know, if, if I was wrong about Cotton Weary, then the killer's still out there.
Tatum: Don't go there, Sid. You're starting to sound like some Wes Carpenter flick or something. Don't freak yourself out, okay? We've got a long night ahead of us.
Stuart: See it's a fun game Sidney. We ask you questions and if you get one wrong, BOO-GAH, you die.
Billy: You get one right, you die.
Your slut mother was fucking my father. She's the reason my mom moved out and abandoned me. How's that for a motive?Billy
That woman was a slut-bag whore who flashed her shit all over town like she was Sharon Stone or something.Billy
Sidney Prescott: Oh, my God. Randy I thought you were dead.
Randy: I probably should be. I never thought I'd be so happy to be a virgin.
No, please don't kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel!Tatum
Now that Billy tried to mutilate her, do you think Sid would go out with me?Randy
Okay I think it's going to go something like this, just stay with me. Hi, this is Gale Weathers with an exclusive eyewitness account of this amazing breaking story. Several more local teens are dead, bringing to an end the harrowing mystery of the masked killings that has terrified this peaceful community like the plot of some scary movie. It all began with the scream of a 911, and ended in a bloodbath that has rocked the town of Woodsboro. All played out here in this peaceful farmhouse, far from the crimes and the sirens of the larger cities that its residents have fled. Okay, let's take it back to one. Come on, move it! This is my big shot. Let's go.Gale
Sidney Prescott: But this is life. This isn't a movie.
Billy: Sure it is, Sid. It's all a movie. It's all one great big movie. Only you can pick your genre.
Sidney Prescott: How do you gut someone?
Stu: You take a knife and you slit 'em from groin to sternum.
Billy: Hey. It's called tact, you fuck-rag.