Robert: Hey, Deb, I'm really sorry.
Marie: I managed to throw the ball very well.
Robert: Well, I thought Ray was cuttin' back toward the window.
Debra: A closed window?
Robert: Well, I couldn't tell it was closed. The glass looked very clean.
Marie: All right, nobody believes you anymore, Robert.

Ray: Oh, hey, listen. I think I got somethin' here that's gonna take care of Dad.
Marie: Are those the papers to have him committed?

Ray: You know what? I don't care what you think. People have to know that I am not like him.
Debra: Oh, really? Okay, 'cause I thought this was about getting the ball back, but if you just want to clear your name, then this will do it. You should definitely publish it then.
Ray: Don't try and pull that "tell me to do it so I don't do it" flippity-floo, okay? I'm gonna do it. You think this is gonna stop me? All I need is a piece of tape. No, I can just print it up again. Yeah, that's what I'll do. Hey, you know what? I'm going to make it even stronger. There's stuff that I left out. That's the power of the press, people. And don't any of you try to stop me, or I'll write somethin' about you.

Marie: Oh please? I do a lot of baby-sitting for you.
Ray: Yeah, but our kids don't curse as much.

Marie: Raymond why don't you take him to one of your sports games?
Ray: I'm not taking him to any of my sports games, okay? Besides, the only football around is Hofstra and Northeastern. They're both 0-7. It's like watchin' the kids have a tickle fight.
Marie: Well, your father already has his outside pants on, so I'm sending him over.

Ray: Hey, Robert. Who do you like in the big game today?
Robert: What big game? Hofstra and Northeastern where ya been? Tss, huh?
Debra: What's with that?
Robert: I really haven't been following Hofstra.
Ray: What, are you kidding me? This is their year. And Northeastern? It's like clash of the titans today.

Robert: No, no, no. I'll go, I'll go. I want to go.
Ray: All right. Okay, great. Go get Dad and go.
Robert: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait. Me and Dad?
Marie: That's right, dear. There's gonna be a big tickle fight.

Ray: You know, if you want to beat the traffic, you better get goin'.
Robert: Well, what? You're not comin'?
Ray: I wish, I wish. I can't catch a break. I got to work on the frickin' bake sale all day. Witchy-poo has got me frosting up the cupcakes all day.
Robert: Ah, the perils of marriage, huh? That's too bad, Raymond. Well, I'll be thinking about ya.
Ray: I'll be thinking about you. [Robert exits] Sucker!
Debra: Witchy-poo?
Ray: Yeah. That was great. The face that you made when I said it, it was perfect. Yeah, just like that. Okay, you can stop now.

Debra: What happened?
Robert: Well, first of all, in spite of the hype, today's game was not a great match-up.
Ray: Come on, really?
Robert: But at the end, this kid from Hofstra kicks an unbelievable field goal.
Frank: 68 yards.
Ray: 68-yard field goal?
Frank: Yep, the longest ever college or pro. Come on, Robert, tell it like you're not a Gelding.

Marie: Raymond? Taste this.
Ray: Good.
Marie: How good? How much would you pay for this whole cake at the bake sale?
Ray: Uh... $10?
Marie: $10?
Ray: All right. Wait a minute. Wait a minute. [tastes again] A thousand dollars.
Marie: You're such a sweet boy.
Debra: How much would you pay for my cupcakes?
Ray: A million dollars.