Dick: [to Harry] Hop to it, you ironically-gifted chowderhead. Why did I say that? What's wrong with me?
Tommy: Could it be - and this is just a wild guess - that Harry is way better at something than you?
Dick: Oh, give me some credit. I'm the High Commander. I don't engage in petty rivalry.
Tommy: [scoffs] Look, Dick, you're actually younger than me, right?
Dick: Right.
Tommy: But on this mission you got to be taller. Now, don't you think that eats my lunch just a little bit? You don't see me whining.
Dick: So how can you be so cool about it?
Tommy: 'Cause I'm older than you, little buddy.

Sally: Tommy, I got a reconnaissance report from Mrs. Nadle. Our only real competition is the kissing booth. This year they have hookers.
Tommy: Sally, those are cheerleaders.
Sally: Not if they're charging.

Tommy: What's that smell?
Sally: I'm making blueberry muffins.
Dick: Smells like they're done.
Sally: No, the timer didn't go off.
Dick: Yes, but Lieutenant-
Sally: Dick, I have incinerated entire armies. I think I can handle an oven.
Tommy: Oh, I'm glad to hear you say that 'cause I kind of signed you up for a bake sale.
Sally: What's a bake sale?
Tommy: Oh, it's just an attempt to revive a failing educational system through parental involvement.
Sally: A fine cause. I'm there.
Tommy: You know, I really think you should check on those muffins.
Sally: The box said 15 minutes. You don't argue with the box.

Mrs. Walters: Okay, everybody, let's take our seats and get started. As you know, this is my sixth year as chairman of the bake sale. And, um I think we've done pretty darn well. Last year, we raised $500.
Sally: How much did you make before that?
Mrs. Walters: Well, I don't want to brag, but we've made roughly $500 each of the last six years.
Sally: Uh-huh. So what you're saying is, the group is stagnating under your leadership.
Mrs. Walters: You're new around here. Let's start the meeting, shall we? Any thoughts on this year's sale?
Sally: Yeah, I have a thought. This group isn't advancing. It's retreating. You dropped the ball, sister.
Mrs. Walters: I am a master chef. I trained at the culinary institute of Pittsburgh. I think I know a little bit about baking.
Sally: Okay, well, here's what I know about baking: zip. These troops need a leader, not some chirpy, weak-chinned, underachieving drone. No offense. Look, if you aim for 500 bucks, you get 500 bucks. But there's a saying where I come from, "When you want to punch someone in the nose, you aim for the back of the head." That is, if they have a head. So, I say aim for 10 grand and don't settle for anything less than five.

Dick: Ah, Dr. Albright. There's something different about you this morning.
Mary: I have a new blouse.
Dick: No, that's not it. And I hope you didn't pay too much for it. That's it! It's the box. What's in it?
Mary: Oh, this? Painting supplies. I'm taking a painting class. I'm not very good at it.
Dick: So, you're bad.
Mary: Well, I wouldn't say I was bad. You have to understand I have incredibly high standards and I tend to be very critical of myself. But, as an amateur, I've demonstrated quite a bit of potential.
Dick: So, you're bad.
Mary: Yeah, but art is essentially subjective. There is no good or bad.
Dick: So if you stink, you're still allowed to do it? That sounds perfect.
Mary: Are you interested? Me?
Dick: Don't be ridiculous. I was talking about Harry. Oh, you thought I was worried about being less than perfect? That's rich. [laughs]

Dick: Harry. Harry, what's wrong?
Harry: I got fired from my job at the kids' pizza place.
Dick: Oh, no.
Harry: Yes. They dressed me up like a giant mouse, so I figure I'll just get into character, and then they complain when I eat off the floor.

Dick: I found something else for you to do. You're coming with me to an art class.
Harry: Art? I wasn't creative enough to be a rodent.
Dick: No, no, you don't have to be creative to do art. You just have to be a certain type. Now, you've been ostracized, spit upon, and strangers repeatedly tell you that you're crazy. You've got everything it takes.

Harry: "The Last Supper" by Leonardo Da Vinci.
Tommy: Boy, the guy in the middle really knows how to throw a party, huh?
Harry: And he's sitting in front of the archway.
Sally: So what?
Harry: Well, the negative space in the archway draws our focus. And the hills outside the archway fade into a bluish haze, creating distance. So it's sort of like it's not just a party, it's a going-away party.
Dick: Harry, I'm impressed.
Harry: Mmm, me, too. Can we buy it?
Dick: Oh, don't be silly. After one week, we'd be sick of it.

Harry: Oh, Dick, this is wonderful. Do you have any idea how good it feels to do something for the first time and not suck at it?
Emily: Well, hello. It's nice to see a couple of fresh faces.
Dick: Well, we're very fresh.
Harry: Squeeze my head. It's soft.

Mary: Oh, Harry, that's really interesting.
Dick: I remember that.
Harry: Yeah. That was that thing that burst out of that guy's thorax.
Dick: And we hit it and hit it and hit it and it just wouldn't die. [both laugh] [to Mary] It's a family joke. Sorry.