George Sr.: What if I were to buy this land?
Oscar: I don't understand. Why would you want to do that?
George Sr.: Well, I always talk about being a great man. Maybe a way to do that is not by being the biggest businessman in Southern California, it's-
Oscar: It's by being the best brother in Southern California.
Narrator: George Sr. was going to say, "By gouging the government when they needed the land."
George Sr.: You bet.
Narrator: But he'd save that for Lucille.

George Sr.: We're gonna sell that land to the government for Sitwell's wall, and I'm gonna take the cash. I am gonna mount a case that shows that my wife is not the power-hungry monster the SEC wants to make her out to be.
Lucille: You're such a puny thinker.
George Sr.: Am I puny-thinking again?
Lucille: Sitwell's wall? How about our wall? We build the wall.
George Sr.: We do have the plan.
Lucille: He says he can build it for 200 million, we offer to build it for 150 million, and we make up the difference when we sell the land.
George Sr.: And I use that cash as a little stimulus for us.
Lucille: Maybe a little something for the family.
George Sr.: And we build that sucker...
Lucille: That's my Georgie!
George Sr.: ...five miles high. Long. Five miles long. I got nothing in my system but a maca root cookie.

Oscar: Hey, brother, you seem tense. Come with me to the sweat lodge. Sweat out this frustration. You can learn on this.
Narrator: And perhaps it was a sense of futility or the fact he hadn't brought a book to the desert, but George Sr. chose to enter the small, smoke-filled room, while his wife was also confined to a smoke-filled room, having found a way around both the building's strict no-smoking policy...
[Buster inhales the smoke from his mother's mouth and goes onto the balcony to exhale]
Narrator: ...and the fact that her ankle monitor prevented her from approaching the balcony.
Buster: So, anyways, I went down to the club and I- I can't- [Buster repeats] My food was gone, I could- That restaurant, typically, has a really nice maitre d' [Buster repeats] Can't really remember the host's name, but he was... He was kind of in his 60s [Buster repeats] I have to stop. I have to stop. So... But, finally, I just ordered pastrami shortcake, like I said, but I didn't order - I didn't order sprinkles this - Oh, Mother, please, please. [sobs]

Narrator: A sweat lodge, where he could be a preacher of profit to other type-A executives like himself.
George Sr.: All right, this whole area here, this is going to be visitor yurts. Oh... And we're gonna need industrial-size juicers!
Narrator: He went to work on constructing a seminar, much of which he borrowed from his brief stint as a Jewish-y guru while in prison.
George Sr.: Will you read that back to me, please?
Narrator: This time, however, he needed to be actually ordained as a religious preacher to avoid tax implications.
George Sr.: Lemonade!
Narrator: But fortunately, there was a Phoenix for him, too. But business really took off when an article about George Sr.'s operation appeared in an exclusively first-class in-flight magazine.

Narrator: And soon the retreat was up and running, and George Sr. was determined to create the illusion of a first-class experience. The seminar was reasonably priced at $1,000. The sweat and squeeze was simple. First, George Sr. sweated out his acolytes' defenses.
George Sr.: Oh, come on, Daniels! You ran Bear Stearns, for God's sake! I was like this. Then I went to the desert to seek answers, and now I have them.
Narrator: And then it was time for the squeeze.
George Sr.: And for another 15 grand, you can have them, too. I'll teach you how to get yachts, I'll teach you how to get penthouses, and how to get something for yourself by taking it from someone who thinks it's his.
Man: Does it come with lemonade?
George Sr.: It comes with all the lemonade you can drink.
Narrator: "Squeeze" had two meanings.
George Sr.: Who's in? Sign 'em up. Sign 'em up. Come on, get your wallets out, let's go, guys.

Narrator: George Sr. had been meeting with Lucille on a weekly basis at her new home under the pretense of working on their divorce.
George Sr.: You look nice.
Lucille: Stop trying to butter me up. Let's just get this divorce agreed to so you can get out of here. [door closes] Oh, God. It's almost like adultery this way.
George Sr.: Good, I like that. My wife doesn't understand me.
Lucille: My angel. [gasps and moans] Oh! I haven't had an orgasm outside of my bathtub in 30 years.
George Sr.: How's that?

Barry: Doesn't matter, she's not going to win anyway. The guy you want is the guy she's running against. Herbert Love, right? He's got a rally tonight. Go and see him. Everyone knows how persuasive you can be.
George Sr.: Used to be. I'd be lucky to sell a glass of lemonade for $1,000 today.
Barry: Now, listen. If I can take no more than a law degree from the Virgin Islands...
George Sr.: Yeah.
Barry: ...and turn it into a net worth of $750,000. Before, of course, what I owe in lawsuits, you can talk a politician into wasting public funds on a wall.

George Sr.: 'Cause if no one shows up at that office, she really will divorce me.
Barry: Too bad you can't use a double. Oh, also, I used a look-alike named Stewart to take the California bar for me. But you knew that, right?

Narrator: It was over 100 degrees on the border of California and Mexico. But that was nothing compared to the temperature inside George Sr.'s desert sweat lodge.
George Sr.: So hot.
Narrator: ...where he had gathered a group of CEOs...
All: So hot.
Narrator: with the promise of spiritual enlightenment...
George Sr.: Anybody hallucinating yet?
Man #1: Did anybody else hear that iguana speak?
Narrator: ...as a stepping stone to financial empowerment.
Man #2:Let's kill it.
George Sr.: Okay. They're ready.
Narrator: Of course, there were certain occupational hazards.
George Sr.: All right, guys, easy. I'm not- I'm not an iguana. It's part of the process. They're ready. They're ready!

Michael: You think we should go back?
George Sr.: Absolutely. She's your mother. Family has to stick together.
Michael: You're afraid she'll turn on you.
George Sr.: Won't even leave the table during a dinner party.
Michael: Okay. We're going back, George Michael!