Frank: How come Robert's got $3,000 to throw around? He should be giving us rent money.
Marie: He's our son, Frank. You don't charge your son.
Frank: He's a giant, Marie. Do you know what it costs just to heat him?
Ray: All right. Thanks for coming.
Frank: Food, too. He's got $3,000, and I'm paying for the Pudding Pops.
Marie: You eat them, too, Frank.
Frank: No more Pudding Pops. And no solid white tuna, either. The chunk light is perfectly fine. I'm not running a country club anymore!
Marie: I like the solid white.
Frank: Too bad!
Marie: It's my one luxury.