George Sr.: No, the prosecution is going to want to have access to the hard drive, so I just want to make sure everything is nice and clean for them. [clears throat]
Michael: What the hell is that thing?
George Sr.: An electromagnet. Think of it as a giant delete key.
Michael: Well, I hate to spoil your fun, Dad, but I got backup son all of that stuff, and this is illegal.
George Sr.: Oh, well, excuse me, Judge Reinhold, but I am trying to protect my family. [Lucille's necklace flies off and sticks to the magnet]
Lucille: That's not a real gold necklace, is it?
George Sr.: Well, it wasn't really your 50th birthday.

Michael: You know, Dad, you can't have this stuff in here, all right? And we don't need more trouble. It's bad enough you got Buster faking a coma just so he doesn't have to testify.
Lucille: I've been trying to get him out of that coma. It's costing us a fortune. He's sleeping us dry.
[flashback:]
Lucille: Okay, faker, I'm cutting the cord. I'll see you at the snack machine.

Michael: Speaking of living a lie, I don't suppose either one of you have remembered who this N. Bluth is, huh? Not a Nick or a Nellie?
George Sr.: Just the one who married Lindsay.
Lucille: [laughs] Oh, it isn't fun to talk like this?

Narrator: Later that night, Lucille visited Buster in the hospital.
Lucille: What the hell is this?
John Van Heusen: My name is Representative John Van Heusen, and I am here to protect the dignity of this boy's life.
Lucille: Dignity? Easy for you to say, I'm the one who has to loofah his stump.

John Van Heusen: I believe death is wrong in all of its forms. Except lethal injection, but that's just as a deterrent against more death. And this young man is enjoying life! [holds a balloon over Buster's face] Hey! Hey! Huh? Hey, look us, huh? We're having a blast here.
Lucille: How the hell'd you even find out about Sleeping Beauty here?
John Van Heusen: It was an anonymous tip from someone who cares about Buster's life.
Lucille: It's not ringing any bells.
Narrator: In fact, it was Buster himself.
[flashback:]
Buster: They're trying to kill Baby Buster. Oh, that's right-- from the videos.
[present:]
John Van Heusen: Well, no one's killing Baby Buster on my watch. That is unless, of course, it's as a penalty in a three-strike scenario.
Lucille: No one's called him Baby Buster since high school.

Lindsay: That's funny. I'm going out tonight for drinks, too, with an exciting new man.
Michael: Really trying to make that marriage work, aren't you?
Lindsay: Well, excuse me, Judge Reinhold, but I'm feeling a little pressure here. I mean, if you had to have sex with Tobias in four months, you'd be shopping for a way out, too.
Michael: I stand corrected. And disgusted.

Michael: Oh, it's Tobias.
Tobias: Michael, look, this has got to stop. I mean, flattered? Yes. Interested? Not tonight.
Michael: I-I think I see what's happening. You're meeting girl Michael at the bar?
Tobias: It was her idea. She wanted to get a drink. I know it's crazy. I mean, I'm married. And the carbs!
Michael: That's why sometimes life is about making difficult...
Tobias: Sandwiches. I know.

Michael: She's not my sister? I let her into the company.
George Sr.: You didn't give her access to the cash, did you?
Michael: She said she liked me.
George Sr.: She's a prostitute! That's her job! Oh, no, the N. Bluth account.
Michael: What? The N. Bluth account? That is your account?
George Sr.: Maybe. But it's only embezzlement if you spend it outside the company. [computer beeps] It's gone. It's empty. She got to it.
Michael: Well, there goes the company.
George Sr.: Okay, now, hold on now. Let's not panic because I-I know someone who can find her. His name is Frank.
Michael: That's Gob's puppet.
George Sr.: I'm going to prison. You haven't heard from Oscar lately have you?

Narrator: George Michael was interested because, earlier that day, he'd discovered that the recent mock wedding he'd acted in with his cousin Maeby was, in fact, as real and binding as the rice pudding the disoriented patients had thrown at them.

Maeby: You mean we're married?
George Michael: No. It's just a piece of paper. It doesn't mean anything. I mean-
Maeby: We should shred it. It's creeping me out.
George Michael: Yeah. Me- But, if we just put it over the dresser, like we think it's a joke, and we would always know-
Maeby: It is a joke.
George Michael: I know. Unless we get it framed.