Narrator: Michael went off to hide while Buster and George Michael arrived as planned.
Buster: I really appreciate you doing this for me. You're making a very miserable person happy.
George Michael: She really feels awful, huh?
Buster: Oh. Oh, I was talking about me. But, yeah, she's a mess.

Gob: Oh, no! It's the cops! And a construction worker.

Michael: What are you doing here?
Buster: The, uh... The boy was lookin' out for me.
Michael: What?
Buster: It-It's for my girlfriend. She's sick.
Gob: Why don't you just wait it out? She's gonna be gone soon. [chuckles]
Buster: Oh, that's it. [hits Gob]
Gob: Hey!
Buster: Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself? Why are you hitting yourself?

Michael: A-minus, huh?
George Michael: Proud of me?
Michael: Very proud... minus. Better go hit the books again. Get up there.

Gob: I need a favor.
Michael: What happened to, "Hello. I need a favor"?
Gob: I owe Hot Cops 500 bucks.
Michael: "Hot Cops"?
Gob: It's the stripping agency I used to work for. Cop uniform.
Michael: Right.
Gob: You know, I might have been just a little too believable.
[flashback to Gob knocking on the door of an apartment:]
Gob: Police! Open up!
[After a gun shot fires through the door, Gob squats down and backs away]

Narrator: Michael then left for his mother's apartment where she greeted him with some not-so-surprising news.
Lucille: I need a favor.
Michael: We ought to put that on our family crest.
Lucille: Oh, Michael, spare me. The S.E.C. is making me inventory everything I own. They want me to prove no new purchases have been made with company money.
Michael: And there haven't been, right?
Lucille: Not after we doctor all these receipts.
Michael: I can't help you, Mom. I've got a job. I gotta make some money so you can buy more things and destroy the evidence.
Lucille: You're right. I'll ask Lindsay.

George Michael: [talking to himself] No. No, that's not the answer, because you... What? No! You stupidjerk! Why don't... Dumb. Dumb. Dumb, George Michael. Dumb, dumb.
Michael: Whoa, whoa, whoa. Calm down, you two. It's just a math problem.
George Michael: Yeah, but if I fail math, there goes my chance at a good job and a happy life full of hard work, like you always say.
Michael: [sighs] Maybe I'm pushing you too hard. You're all stressed-out. Your eyes are all red. Why don't you take the night off. Just shut the book. Go ahead. Just close the book. Go ahead. [George Michael closes the book] Your finger is still in the book. George Michael. [George Michael reluctantly removes his finger from the book]

Buster: Look, she's sick. This could help her. Pill form would actually be fantastic. I could put it on a tea biscuit, tell her it's a marshmallow.
George Michael: I have no idea where to get something like that. What makes you think I would?
Buster: Well, you work here. This place is pot central, right?
Narrator: In the '70s, the boardwalk was the place to buy marijuana in Newport Beach. The stand served as a convenient meeting place because of the banana's resemblance to a yellow marijuana cigarette. It had even inspired a song.

Lucille: Ah, yes. The week we had the au pair. You know, your mother always wanted this brooch.
Maeby: Really?
Lucille: Do you want it?
Maeby: I do now. That'll show her for trying to punish me.
Lucille: Oh. Pretty. It'll distract from the freckles.

Michael: Man, I speak to Lindsay one time about her hippie parenting, and I end up with a hippie.
Gob: Yeah, it does seem pretty quick.
Michael: For all I know, this has been goin' on forever. He's been stressed, his eyes have been red, his grades are dropping.
Gob: Heard about the A-minus.
Michael: I'm gonna go find out what's going on.