Shut up, you talker!

We were a little late getting to 3:10 to Yuma today, so instead decided to check out Superbad. (Hysterical, by the way.) The theater itself was cold, as it usually is, and relatively full, as this particular theater isn't in the best location for mass audiences and is more of a "happened on" type place.
Anyway, in the theater was the type of moviegoer who is the absolute bane of my existence: the know-it-all who's seen the flick already. Yes, the girl sat in the row behind me and spouted out dialog either right before, "Seven dollars!", or right after, repeating it in the exact inflection and tone. I wanted to kill her. Fortunately for her, the movie kept drawing my attention back to it, since it was full of little one-liners, and she escaped the theater unscathed.
I mean, isn't it bad enough that I have to fight off Brian's penchant for conversation when we're watching a movie?
"Who's that girl? I've seen her. She's hot."
"That's so not right. There is a difference between nuclear and thermonuclear weapons, and they're just throwing the terms around like they are the same thing."
Why am I condemned to be stuck in the theater with the worst kind of ticketholder? It was awful. And Brian missed it all.