Gob: So, what's up?
George Michael: I, uh, need you to make some fake I.D.'s for me and Maeby.
Gob: Like a passport?
George Michael: Yeah, yeah. That'd be great. Oh, and, uh, preferably French. I like the way they think.

Lindsay: She can't drive herself. I mean, she's the world's worst driver.
Narrator: Lindsay was not exaggerating. Lucille had recently been featured on Fox's World's Worst Drivers.
Michael: Yeah. I can't believe she got that driver's license renewed.
Gob: She didn't. I dummied her up a new one. Not my best work though. She wanted to look 48. I nearly airbrushed her into oblivion. We ended up checking "Albino" on the form.

Lucille: I told you. They don't support me.
Michael: I hate to tell you, Mom, but they don't support me either. I sat down and I told them this was important to me.
Lucille: You did that for me?
Michael: I let you drive, didn't I?
Lucille: Yes, you did, Michael, and I'm loving it. You're a good son. You always do things for others. You're the only one holding this family together.
Michael: And you see a lot more than I give you credit for, Mom. You're not just concerned with yourself. You care about the family.
Hey. Is that Gob?
Lucille: It's an idiot on a scooter at night? It's gotta be Gob. Let's give him a scare.
Michael: Hmm? No, Mom. I don't think we should.
Lucille: A nice little scare. [shouts] Hey, big shot, too busy to go to your mother's party?

Michael: [on the phone] The truth is, I can wait on selling the yacht. It's just money, right?
Gob: Wow. How hard did you hit that steering wheel?
Michael: I actually hit the back of my head.
Gob: The back of your head?
Michael: Yeah. Gob, the accident only happened because I was trying to scare you. Maybe even hurt you.
Gob: That doesn't sound like you. It sounds like Mom.
Michael: Can we please just lay off Mom for a change? I mean, she's the one that helped me remember what happened. And trust me, I'm the bad guy here. Not her. And definitely not you, so, would you please just take the yacht?
Gob: I'll think about it. [hangs up] South America sounds good. But a chance to expose Mom? Turn this skiff around.
Captain: We haven't even left the dock.
Gob: But "skiff" is appropriate, right?

Michael: Hey, Mom. Remember we had that conversation about trying to cut back on things that aren't necessities?
Lucille: Like it was yesterday.
Michael: It was this morning and now I hear that you've hired a crew for the yacht. I'm selling that yacht.
Lucille: Michael, you haven't heard why I want it. To throw the most lavish party this town has ever seen for my birthday.
Michael: I enjoy bicentennials as much as the next guy, Mom, but we're not doing that.

Michael: Where the was [bleep] everybody?
Gob: What are you talking about?
Michael: Mom's party. Where were you guys?
Gob: It's the first I've heard about it.
Michael: What about you? Neiman's?
Lindsay: Prison. Then Neiman's. But only because I'm going back to prison, and they've seen me in this.

Michael: [on the phone] Gob, I want you to move back on to the yacht.
Gob: The yacht? What makes you think I'd want to now?
Michael: Well, I know that you've been looking for- [ship horn] What was that?
Gob: I think that was on your end.

Lucille: Oh, here comes the 10:15 conniption, right on time. Honest to God, Buster, it's like every little thing makes you seize up in terror lately. I have no idea where you get that from. Get away from that stove. You're going to light your hair on fire. [to Michael] He's weak.
Michael: Speaking of weak, Mom, what do you got in there, gold bars?
Lucille: Protein bars for your father. He's pumping up in prison.
Michael: No more parties. Okay, Mom?
Lucille: You're my third least-favorite child.
Michael: I can live with that.

Lindsay: I just think it's important to honor your parents.
Michael: Why don't you start by visiting Dad in jail? You've never even been there.
Lindsay: Michael, do you have any idea what would happen if I were to visit prison?
Michael: Hmm.
Lindsay: It would be pandemonium.
Michael: Mm-hmm.
Lindsay: It'd just give Dad one more reason to think that I've got nothing to offer but my looks.
Gob: Yeah, I got some of that except he also didn't like my looks.

Lindsay: The reason I'm here today is because I felt that I needed to say something.
George Sr.: Oh, okay.
Lindsay: My whole life all you've ever praised me for is my looks.
George Sr.: Oh, no. Your looks-
Lindsay: Yes, Dad. I mean, it's always been Michael's got the brains, Gob's got the charm, Buster's got the...
George Sr.: High-fastening pants.
Lindsay: Have you said that?
George Sr.: No. I'm saying that now.