Frank: So what are you so upset about? Sounds like Mr. Muscle here is saving you some prep work.
Marie: I don't like that, Frank. And I have to say, Raymond, I think that Debra is playing a very dangerous game.
Frank: Oh, what are you talking about? Who cares where she gets her appetite as long as she has her meal at home?
Ray: Stop, stop!
Marie: Raymond. Raymond, you have to get Debra out of this class right now.
Frank: Why? This guy is helping out! Maybe Ray doesn't have what it takes to get Debra's motor running.
Marie: Raymond's got plenty!
Ray: Thank you! Mom! Huh! [exits]

Ray: What? Amy is a good girl? But she's 33 years old, Ma. She can't be.
Marie: She can't?
Ray: I mean, yeah, she can, but how? It's so...
Marie: Refreshing?
Ray: Wow, I don't believe it. So Amy's never let anybody cook in her kitchen, either.
Marie: I don't like that, Raymond.

Ray: Hey, Mom and Dad, I think I know what I'm gonna get you for Christmas.
Frank: Better not be a pet. I hate people who give pets.
Ray: Yeah, yeah, we know, Dad.
Frank: Giving a pet means "You're old, I find you boring. Talk to a bird."

Frank: What did you do? Try to soften her up with a big present so you could go play golf?
Ray: For your information, Dad, it's a little more complicated than that.
Frank: You're an idiot. Give me that chocolate. Sit down. Let me tell you something about women. You think you've got to butter them up to get what you want. That is a poor man's game. "Oh, sweetums, here's some flowers. Can I go to the lodge?" Not for me. Not for me! I don't do that nice crap.
Robert: So how do you get what you want?
Frank: I've learned to do without.

Frank: What did you do? Try to soften her up with a big present so you could go play golf?
Ray: For your information, Dad, it's a little more complicated than that.
Frank: You're an idiot. Give me that chocolate. Sit down. Let me tell you something about women. You think you've got to butter them up to get what you want. That is a poor man's game. "Oh, sweetums, here's some flowers. Can I go to the lodge?" Not for me. Not for me! I don't do that nice crap.
Robert: So how do you get what you want?
Frank: I've learned to do without.

Frank: This one says "For Debra from Ra." R-r-r-a... Looks like "Rap."
Ray: You think it might be Ray, Dad?
Frank: No.
Marie: Frank, put your glasses on. You're blind.
Frank: And what would be the upside of seeing you more clearly?

Debra: I knew you would like this. And I love my pots! I'm gonna try 'em out right now.
Marie: Well, I better go help her. They're not magic pots.