Frank Buffay, Jr.: Hey, lady. Hey, wait up. How do you know my dad?
Phoebe: Well, I don't really. Just genetically. He's kind of my dad too.
Frank Buffay, Jr.: Heavy.
Phoebe: So did he ever talk about me? Phoebe?
Frank Buffay, Jr.: No, but he didn't really talk about anything. Except stilts.
Phoebe: Stilts?
Frank Buffay, Jr.: Yeah, he loved stilts. This one time, I was upstairs stealing cigarettes out of my mom's purse and all of a sudden I look over and there's Dad's head, bobbing past the window. He just had this big smile on his face and he was waving because he was happiest when he was on his stilts.
Phoebe: I don't know what to do with that.
Frank Buffay, Jr.: Me neither.