Lois: And we can all thank Reese for the wonderful dinner he brought home from work.
Hal: Oh, way to go, son. And someday, all that toner I keep bringing home will come in handy, too.

Dewey: Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. I win. Wow, I smoked you again, Dad. Looks like I'm just better at Life than you.
Hal: Good for you, Dewey. But I hope you know that this isn't how things work in the real world. It's very oversimplified.
Dewey: Hmm.
Hal: I mean, you can't just break into a zoo, roll a couple of elevens and suddenly become the dean of a university.
Dewey: I did.
Hal: Son, I'm just trying to give you a life lesson here.
Dewey: Yet that's my orange limo sitting at the finish line, isn't it? Interesting.
Hal: [pretends to read card] "Dewey goes straight to bed with no dessert." Interesting.

Dewey: Dad? What's going on? I got your message at school. Is everything okay?
Hal: Everything's about to be. Have a seat.
Dewey: You pulled me out of a math test to play a game with you?
Hal: This is much more important than some useless math test. I have to make sure that you understand you got lucky last time. Life won't always go your way, Dewey. And the sooner you learn that lesson, the better. Sit down. Sit.
[later:]
Dewey: "You study hard and become an astronaut." All right.
Hal: What?! What?! What kind of lesson is this stupid game teaching you?! Where's the card that tells you your hemorrhoids are not covered by your health plan, huh?! Oh, would that not make a fun game?

Malcolm: So, Craig, did you tell my mom that you couldn't cover her shift for her Friday night?
Craig: Oh, I think I did far better than that.
Malcolm: Huh?
Craig: Patience, my friend. My trap is about to spring.
Lois: [to a customer] This stupid pen doesn't work.
Craig: [laughs] I was up all night scribbling with it. Watch her face as her whole world comes crumbling down. [Lois pulls out another pen] Okay, I didn't see that coming. But who would?
Malcolm: That's it? That's what you did to get back at her?
Craig: Relax, Malcolm. That is just the first course in my tasty menu of revenge. Huh, that was supposed to stick. Don't worry, her finger sponge is as dry as a bone. [maniacal laugh]

Craig: This is it, the open road. A great new chapter's about to be written, a new legend about to be born. Will I travel from town to town solving crimes like Knightrider, or administer frontier justice like the guy from Kung Fu? I guess we'll just have to see. Okay, America, get ready to meet Craig Feldspar.
Lois: Craig, wait!
[Craig screams as a herd of cows stampede towards him]
Lois: Oh, my God!
Malcolm: Craig, are you all right?! Craig, Craig!
Craig: Kit, is that you? [coughs]

Craig: Because for the last 12 years, I've dedicated my life to a relationship that can't exist. I can't go back to that.
Lois: Craig, what do you want from me?!
Craig: I want more!
Lois: I'm sorry. I can't give you more. You know that.
Craig: There's got to be something. There's got to be some scenario where you could see us together. Please?! Anything!
Lois: ... Okay, this is the only universe this could possibly exist in. I'm 90 years old. Hal is dead. I have dementia and I need someone to keep me from catching myself on fire. There's no money for a nurse, the kids won't do it, and I'm asleep 22 hours a day. Then and only then - maybe - could we be together.
Craig: It's like you're reading straight out of my diary.

Hal: So, what's new and exciting down at the old meat packing plant?
Reese: Tons. They have me back on the floor where all the action is. And they upgraded to the new Slaughter-Bot. Now it has six chainsaw arms, and it doesn't get jammed on the horns anymore.
Hal: Oh.
Dewey: And you people wonder why I wake up screaming all the time.
Lois: Dig in, everybody.
Hal: What kind of meat is that?
Reese: Don't knock it. This is the stuff that keeps the cow from falling apart. [serves self]

Craig: Yup, quit my job at Lucky Aide, bought a little secondhand Vesper and I'm about to hit the road.
Malcolm: What?
Craig: That's right. I'm going to finally fulfill my dream of eating a Swedish pancake in every IHOP in America. It's only been done twice, you know, and one of those was undocumented.
Lois: Craig, that's crazy. Why are you doing this?
Craig: Oh, you know, it's the same old story. Girlfriend crowding me, too many friends jockeying for face time. A man needs his freedom, Lois. What more can I say? Anyways, I won't be able to cover your Friday night shift after all.
Malcolm: [to camera] I know this is all my fault, but maybe this will be good for him. He's made a realistic decision to evaluate his life. How can that be bad?
Craig: I don't have much money, but I've got my banjo. I figure I'd pay for my meals with songs. The kindness of strangers should take care of the rest.
Lois: Well, then I guess it's good-bye.
Craig: You know I've never been really big on the sissy stuff, so I'd better just haul tush.

Hal: Well... I couldn't eat another bite. The pay channels seem to be on an unusually low scramble tonight, so if you'll all excuse me.
Dewey: Dad?
Hal: What's this? "This coupon entitles you to one free game night with Dad."
Dewey: Let's go.
Hal: Dewey, I wrote this in a blind panic in the hall closet while everyone was singing you "Happy Birthday." You're not gonna hold me to this, are you? [Dewey is silent] Does it have an expiration date?
Dewey: No.
Hal: Listen, I'll tell you what. In exchange for this, I'll give you two coupons good for future services. [Dewey pulls more coupons out of his pockets] What kind of pack rat are you? Don't you ever throw anything away? All right, fine! Let's go. And I'll start burning through some of these free hugs. I don't need them hanging over my head.

Lois: So, Malcolm, you have any exciting plans for when you're grounded this weekend? You gonna alphabetize all the stuff in your closet? Or you can update all those exciting new countries onto your globe. Hey, you could finally give the corns on your feet the attention they deserve.
Malcolm: It's bad enough you're punishing me. You don't have to mock me while I'm so miserable. [to camera] I am so happy. I'm sneaking out to a concert Friday night while Mom works the late shift. The band sucks, but I have backstage passes. And if that's even one-billionth as insane as I've always imagined it, I can die happy.