Narrator: George Sr. had used his considerable means to stage intricate scenarios to teach his children what he considered valuable life lessons.
George Sr.: I need help.
J. Walter Weatherman: I'll get my gear.
Narrator: Typically, these scenarios would involve a man named J. Walter Weatherman a one-time employee who lost his arm in a Bluth Company construction accident.
Young Gob: [hitting Buster] Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?
George Sr.: We're out of milk. I could have got it earlier if someone would have left a note. [tires screech] [kids scream] Why? If someone had left a note this- this innocent man would still have his arm. Why?!
J. Walter Weatherman: And that's why you always leave a note.

Michael: I was so loyal. I worked so hard. Why didn't you just put me in charge?
George Sr.: Michael, listen to me. These guys, the S.E.C., they've been after me for years. I put you in charge, you're gonna be wearing one of these jumpsuits too.
Michael: I could've helped-
George Sr.: You'd be an accomplice. No. It had to be your mom. [whispers] They cannot arrest a husband and wife for the same crime.
Michael: Yeah, I don't think that that's true, Dad.
George Sr.: Really? [sighs] I got the worst [bleep] attorneys.

George Sr.: You got to get me out of here.
Michael: You're the one that said no to prison.
George Sr.: I was wrong. There, you just have it to shut your eyes and take it. Here, you have shut your eyes and give it. Now, listen, we can't go in there and plead "not guilty". We have to have someone big behind us, our own private Matlock. So I made calls and I got him.
Michael: Got who?
George Sr.: Andy Griffith. What, you never saw Matlock?
Michael: Not a real attorney, Dad.
George Sr.: Now, for ten grand, he'll actually sit behind us in court and read the paper. For 15, he'll actually sit at the defense table. For $20,000, he'll twice lean forward and whisper something in your ear. Oh. White suit, that's extra.
Michael: Boy, that's an awful lot of money for the stupidest idea I've ever heard.
George Sr.: The juries love him.

Michael: And you want to go after these people?
George Sr.: Well, yes, it takes a little courage, Michael. I know that's not your strongest suit. You're even scared to ask a girl out on a date.
Michael: What? Why does everybody think that I'm scared of girls?
George Sr.: Because you're a chicken. You're a chicken! Coo-coo ca-cha! Coo-coo ca-cha!
Michael: What are you doing?
Lucille: Michael and women?! A-koodle-doodle doo!
Lindsay: That's what I was just telling him. Cha! Cha!
Michael: Look, I haven't found the right girl. When I do, I will ask her out. Has anyone in this family ever even seen a chicken?

George Sr.: Michael, we don't have Buster. We would never make you worry. We love you. That's why we got rid of your $700,000 debt.
Michael: Hang on. What are you talking about? I thought that was Lucille 2. You forgave the debt?
George Sr.: Of course we did. I mean, well, no, technically, we forgot the debt. We can forget it, but we can never forgive it. We need the write-off.

George Sr.: Get away, I'll shoot! I will! I will! I'll take you all out!
Michael: This is all fake. These guys are painters!
George Sr.: I'll kill you! [gun shot]
J. Water Weatherman: Oh, God, my arm!
Michael: Dad, you just shot off this... this guy's arm.
J. Water Weatherman: And that's why you don't teach your father a lesson.
George Sr.: Now who's the stupid one now? Thank you, Gob.

George Sr.: Let him go. Let your son go.
Michael: I can't do that, Dad. He needs me.
George Sr.: Michael, you don't want to make the same mistake your mom made with Buster.
Michael: Yeah, boy. What happened there?
George Sr.: I really don't know. Maybe it was the 11 months he spent in the womb. The doctor said there were claw marks on the walls of her uterus, but... He was our miracle baby, you know? And l-I was just too burned out on raising you guys to care. So, he turned out a little, uh, soft. [Buster yawns] A little doughy. [Buster yawns more loudly] I don't know. Maybe- Maybe it was my fault. Maybe I just ignored the guy.
Buster: Wow. We're just blowing through nap time, aren't we?
Michael: Yeah, I gotta let my son go.

Gob: Didn't Dad teach us that we don't yell in this family?
[flashback to the Bluth kids screaming on the boat:]
J. Walter Weatherman: Tell me before you hit the gas.
George Sr.: I can't hear you! The kids are yelling.
J. Walter Weatherman: Tell me before you hit the gas.
George Sr.: I guess you're saying, "Hit the gas."
J. Walter Weatherman: Don't! Wait! [screams as the boat sets off and his arm is ripped off] No! That's why you don't yell.

Michael: For God's sake, Dad, he's not dead. I need to do this soon, tonight. Down by the docks. I'm gonna make it like a drug deal went bad.
George Sr.: Tonight? No. It's Yontif. It's the first night of Yom Kippur.
Michael: Dad, that's just... That's one night, and it's back in September. That's okay. You've only been a Jew about two days.
George Sr.: Just try to talk to him.
Michael: Like you talked to me when I was growing up?
George Sr.: I thought you hated those lessons.
Michael: I did, but they worked. And they will work again.
George Sr.: Well, I'm done with them, because it was wrong, Michael.
Michael: Come on.
George Sr.: Your son is a timid, thoughtful boy. He's a scholar, like his grandfather. What time is it? Oh, almost sundown. I have to prepare for the Sabbath.
Michael: It's Tuesday.
George Sr.: Shh, shh, shh.

George Sr.: [on TV] I didn't quite hear that. The reception is bad. But as the Talmud tells us... [static] to the jackal as to an oxen. [laughs] Did it get a laugh?