George Michael: It's just, um... I mean, this is really fun and everything...
Michael: This isn't even the fun part. Tomorrow.
George Michael: Yeah. The problem I'm having is, uh... I have a pretty finely tuned internal clock...
Michael: Mm-hmm.
George Michael: ...which is why I'm actually such a good natural percussionist. And, um... I'm just worried that I'm not gonna be able to fall asleep for another two hours and 45 minutes. So, I was thinking maybe I would go down and check out Maeby's band and you could go see if Gob's bachelor party has started.
Michael: Shh, shh, shh. I'm right where I want to be. Gob had his chance to have me there. But if you're sure that you can't sleep...
George Michael: Well, it's just I don't know when I'm gonna get another chance like this. You know, to be there for family. I'd hate to miss it, because I was too proud.
Michael: Right. Wait a minute. "Too proud?" What does this have to do with "too proud?"
George Michael: Actually, that part was kinda just for you. I was just worried the whole thing wasn't gonna land unless I included the pride part.

Narrator: Upstairs, Gob was preparing to set up the accountant under his father's helpful gaze.
George Sr.: [on TV] Who called the cops?
Narrator: And with the aid of some helpful gays.
Gob: You told me to hire people to look like my friends. They're Hot Cops. They're entertainers. Although I specifically asked them not to come dressed as cops. You better change now. He's gonna be here soon. Butch, guys. I want it butch.

George Sr.: [on TV] Hey, uh, you got the blood. Right?
Gob: Yeah, I got two buckets full right- Hey! What the hell happened to the blood?
Buster: Hey, Brother.
Hot Cop: Whoa! Somebody put on his lipstick in the car.
Buster: I love juice! [giggles]

George Michael: "Teamocil is no longer available. Please try either Grouphug, Bondat or consult your own Wellness Guide."
Tobias & Bride of Gob: Teamocil!
Tobias: You're out of the band.

George Sr.: [on TV] Michael, I thought you weren't coming. I thought he wasn't coming!
Michael: Well, I wasn't going to, but he's my brother, and I'm here to support him like all these, uh... hot men and Ira.

Michael: I'm as fun as anybody. I can handle a back room. [enters and returns] I'm calling the cops.
Gob: No!
Hot Guy: We're changing again, guys!
Gob: No. No cops.
Michael: Well, what is this?
Gob: She died. She's dead. It was Gilligan!
Ira Gilligan: What?
Gob: Gilligan killed the skipper- stripper.
Ira Gilligan: I didn't kill any stripper.
Gob: You're drunk. You don't remember.
George Sr.: You're pulling the rip cord! Are you nuts?
Gob: Ira, take my honeymoon tickets. Get out of the country. Save yourself.

Gob: What does it matter? I screwed it up anyway. A complete failure. Can't even fake the death of a stripper.
Michael: Oh, come on. That's not a bad thing. It doesn't make you a failure. Dad's the failure.
Gob: Really? When he was my age, he ran an entire company, had kids.
Michael: The company was corrupt. Look what he's trying to do to us. And I'll tell you something else. You might not be a father, you know, Gob, but you are my brother.
Gob: I might be a father.