Narrator: It was Monday morning and Michael Bluth was nervous about meeting with the new prosecutor of his father's criminal case.
Lucille: I don't know what you're so nervous about, Michael. It's a new prosecutor. It's a whole new beginning, a new day, a new case, a whole new set of lies.

Lindsay: [hoarse] I wonder how many women he's slept with. If any.
Michael: Lindsay, it's not a competition.
Lindsay: Of course it is, Michael. That's why they call it scoring.
Michael: Maybe in the '70s.
Lindsay: That many? We've only been doing this for a month.

Michael: So, come on. Aren't you really just dating Oscar to get back at Dad?
Lucille: Oh, it may have started as that but I have fallen in love with Oscar. And it's so nice not to have to worry about getting pregnant. The doctor said I couldn't be a mother now if I tried.
Michael: And that was without even interviewing me.

George Sr.: Where you been?
Michael: Are you wearing my dead wife's maternity clothes?
George Sr.: Yeah. It's the only thing I could find. Where are the eggs?
Michael: Doctor says they're bad for the baby.

Michael: I'm sorry. I don't understand how this is not a conflict of interest. You almost represented us, and now you're the prosecutor.
Wayne Jarvis: The Patriot Act. Read it.
Michael: I-I'm not even the president anymore. My brother Gob is.
Wayne Jarvis: I spoke with Gob. He appears to know nothing.
Michael: Yeah, that's not an act. He twice tried to microwave a Ding Dong while it was still in its foil. Twice.
Wayne Jarvis: Twice?
Michael: Two times.

Narrator: In fact, Gob had been grilled earlier.
Gob: I don't know anything about the business!
Wayne Jarvis: We're gonna get you, Bluth. We'll give you a few minutes to think about what you want to do.
[Wayne Jarvis and his colleagee step outside:]
Wayne Jarvis: He knows less than anyone we have ever questioned.
Narrator: Gob knew too little to know that, however and his confidence had never been more shaken.
[When Wayne Jarvis returns to the office, Gob's pants are around his ankles as he stands on a chair and attempts to tie his belt around the top of door frame.]
Narrator: And just when he thought he couldn't handle another embarrassment...
Wayne Jarvis: You're free to go.

Wayne Jarvis: Things could get very messy for you, Michael, unless you have something to bargain with like, say, a fugitive.
Michael: I don't know where to find such a thing.
Wayne Jarvis: Look harder. There might be something in it for you.
Michael: Something to get me off?
Wayne Jarvis: If you could find a certain someone.
Barry: Can I have a moment alone with my client, please? Did you follow any of that?
Michael: Yeah. He's hinting that he's gonna grant me immunity but only on the condition that I turn in my father.
Barry: You know where your father is? No, wait. Don't tell me now. Okay. If you know, give me a high five.

Narrator: Michael had just found out that his legal problems might go away if he turned in his father.
Barry: It's just you and me now, huh? [holds up hand for a high-five]
Michael: No, Barry, I- I know where my father is, okay? He came back to make sure that my mother wasn't really in love with my uncle. He wants to know if he's still got a shot with her. If he doesn't, he's leaving.
Barry: Well, if he's got a shot with her, just give me a little tap on the fanny.
Michael: That's not gonna happen.
Barry: Okay. Then look, just tell him anything he wants to hear to keep him from running. We just have to keep him here until we can hear what kind of deal they're offering you. You just trust me. I'm a lot more competent than you can imagine. [a fire breaks out in the microwave] Oh, I forgot to take the tinfoil off too. I really wanted that.

George Sr.: Hey, by the way, I broke this thing. I- What the hell is it anyway?
Michael: That's a breast pump, Dad.
George Sr.: Oh. Well, I did not use it for that.

Wayne Jarvis: I felt obligated to share some photographs with you. I obtained these from the Bluth Company e-mail server.
Michael: You tapped into our e-mail? That's legal?
Barry: I'm going for a hot Ding Dong. Hot Ding Dong?