[After studying his hand, Jacob goes to slide all his chips in]
Melissa: Okay! Just wait. I can't let you do this, kid. Why don't we just say we're playing for these chips and not real money?
Mr. Johnson: A bet is a bet. I gambled away my house, my car, and my subscription to Horse Fancy. No one ever said, "That's okay, Mr. Johnson. It was an honest mistake."

Mr. Johnson: This ain't my first rodeo, hombre. [chuckles] I've staken out before.
Gregory: You stake out other classrooms?
Mr. Johnson: No, you creep. I did private investigator work back in the day.
Gregory: You were a private investigator before a custodian?
Mr. Johnson: No, before I worked at the rodeo.
Gregory: Oh. Sorry. I just... I thought that, you know...
Mr. Johnson: What, that I've been a custodian my whole life? No, man. I worked as a pipe fitter, a minor league baseball bunting coach, a tastefully nude model, sold RVs for summer. Might find a new path after this.
Gregory: Wait, you never dreamed of just doing one thing?
Mr. Johnson: Sure, I have. But a dream can be a distraction just as easy as it can be a goal.

Jacob: Hey, and if you guys thought the Malcolm X Games was cool, just wait till you see Rosa Parks and Rec.
Mr. Johnson: Hey, Siri. [watch dings] Clear my afternoon and set a reminder to watch this boy embarrass himself.

Jacob: Mm. Vision. I love it.
Mr. Johnson: Lil Uzi Vert. I'd be sure to throw away all my trash today.
Jacob: Oh, right. Of course. Ant season?
Mr. Johnson: Ghost season.
Jacob: [laughs] That's funny.
Mr. Johnson: Nothing funny about it, playboy. The janitor used to work right here... spent his days picking up trash. Was good at it, too. But he couldn't stop people from leaving their trash everywhere. And it haunted him till the day he died mysteriously on Halloween, right here, in the very basement of this school.
Jacob: What?
Mr. Johnson: Every Halloween, if you listen closely, you can hear the wheels of his mop bucket rolling down there. [thunder crashes]
Jacob: Oh!

Chad: [as Mr. Johnson] That costume is trash.
Melissa: Oh, look, Mr. Johnson, he's you!
Mr. Johnson: That's pretty cute. But I didn't approve my likeness rights. You better lawyer up, kid.

Mr. Johnson: I don't like science... Too many laws. And who's the judge? God?

Mr. Johnson: I bet you believe dinosaurs really went extinct. [chuckles]

Mr. Johnson: [flatly] "On, Dancer, on, Prancer, on, Donner and Blitzen. She slays holidays, it's the sweet Christmas Vixen."
Ava: Seasons greetings, Ava's elves! It is I, Principal Coleman Claus!
Barbara: Santa Claus just had a heart attack.
Ava: It's time for the gift exchange. Let's find out who's been naughty and who's been nice. And, remember, I only reward the naughty. Everyone who picked a name out of Mr. Johnson's ice skate last week, please gather 'round.
Mr. Johnson: Dorothy Hamill and I used to be a thing. This is all I have left of her.

Janine: Um, can I go first? I got Mr. Johnson. So, you told me, against my will, that back when you were a nude art model, you didn't get to keep any of the things made in your likeness. So, I had a local artist make this, and only this, for you.
Barbara: [o.s.] Wow!
Mr. Johnson: Love it. "To clean, or not to clean? That is the question." [laughter]
Ava: Alright, put your creepy little head down.

Mr. Johnson: [aside to camera] There's one area of giftedness that always goes overlooked. I've started a gifted custodian program. It's like reverse Good Will Hunting. [Malcolm clears up the candies he knocked over in Ava's office] You see a genius cleaning. I see a cleaning genius.