Robert: What do you want me to say? I need to do the wedding invitations. Amy wants me to do it, so I'm doing it. Come on, help me.
Ray: All right. Here's what you do: You- You write a version of the invitation, but you do a horrible job. Okay? She'll see it, do it herself, and never ask you to do anything else with this wedding. You're welcome.
Robert: But it's terrible, Raymond. I'm not gonna intentionally screw it up just to get out of the work.
Frank: Hey, dummy, listen to your stupid brother.
Ray: Look, look. When we got engaged, Debra put me in charge of the music. Okay. So I found a DJ. She wanted a band. So I found a band. She didn't like the band, so I found another band. Nope! The truth is, she wanted to do it, but she just got it in her head that I should be part of this whole wedding experience. So you know what I did? I sent over this guy who sang and played the accordion. He had a keyboard with violins and trumpets and drum noises. His name was "Zippers, the One-Man Wedding Band." Next thing you know, she tells me, "Never mind, she'll take care of the music." I sat down, turned on the TV and never looked back.
Frank: That's a beautiful story.