...*three*, one-thousand, *four*, one-thousand! Run, you bastard, run!

[Babs comes out of her trailer after a mailman knocks on the door] Babs Johnson:
Yes? Delivery Boy:
Miss. Babs Johnson? Babs Johnson:
Yes, I am Babs Johnson. Delivery Boy:
Special delivery package, ma'am. Sign here, please. Babs Johnson:
What do you *mean*, Special delivery package? There's no address here! Delivery Boy:
Says right here, "Babs Johnson, A Trailer, Phoenix, Maryland". And you're Babs Johnson, aren't you? Babs Johnson:
Of course I'm Babs Johnson; I *just* told you that! But there is *no* address here! This is not on any road, route, or street! And I *don't* want people on my property! So don't *ever* bring mail here again, do you understand? And the next package you bring me is getting shoved right up your little ass, can you comprehend that? Delivery Boy:
I understand, I comprehend, I understand. Babs Johnson:
Now you've received some new training, as you call it, and you'd better remember it! So you have exactly fifteen seconds to get off of my property, motherfucker, before I break your goddamn neck! One, one-thousand, *two*, one-thousand... [the mailman starts to run away] Babs Johnson:
...*three*, one-thousand, *four*, one-thousand! Run, you bastard, run!