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Samantha Pringle:
[Samantha has a nosebleed] Do you have some ice?
Jeannie Conway: Oh my God. Come on in. Sit down. Paul, get some ice.
[to Samantha] Hold your head back, back.
[to Paul] Hurry.
[to Samantha] What happened?
Samantha Pringle: Nothing. I just get them sometimes.
Paul Conway: Here you go.
Jeannie Conway: Listen, sweetheart, this may be butting in where I don't belong, but don't you think someone should say something?
Samantha Pringle: For what, a nosebleed? Come on, I've had them since I was a kid. Ice will take care of it. I just forgot to fill the tray.
Jeannie Conway: Oh, Sam, I don't like this.
Samantha Pringle: I hate them.
Jeannie Conway: C'mon you know what I mean. It's criminal. He could go to jail.
Samantha Pringle: He's my father. Sometimes I want to roll a truck over his face but he's still my father.
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Neighbor: Old man Pringle and Mrs. Parker, both dead. His face was burned off.
Paul Conway: Elvira Parker?
Neighbor: Yeah, I heard somebody say she called the police. Said she saw Sam in her bedroom window. From what I hear, Elvira's head's all over the walls in there.