Gob: Pardon me if I don't burst into tears, Michael, but at least he promised to take you. He just let me blindly enjoy my childhood. I didn't even know there was a cabin he wasn't taking me to! [sobs]
Michael: Hmm, mine's sadder.
Gob: I don't see you crying, robot. You taste these tears. Taste my sad, Michael.
Michael: I am not going to lick your eye, okay?
Gob: Well, I will tell you this, Michael... I don't have a son.
Narrator: He does.
Gob: But if I ever do, I'm either going to take him to the cabin in the woods, or I'm going to promise to take him and then not take him. But the one thing that I will never do is not tell him that I'm taking him to a cabin in the woods, and then not take him!
Narrator: Gob was growing up.
Michael: Well, the cabin in the woods is going to be stacked up next to our carport. But maybe we should head up there tonight, huh? One... first time.
Gob: Taste the happy, Michael. Taste it.
Michael: Tastes kind of like sad.