Hal: Look, son, I know you're angry but if you're really honest with yourself, you'll realize you're not mad at me.
Dewey: It sure feels like I am.
Hal: No, you are mad at the jerk that runs this place. Bet he's at home right now sitting in his barcalounger with a big bowl of popcorn on his lap chuckling at us with the boobs that he-
[Dewey puts his golf club behind the windmill door, trapping Hal inside]
Hal: Hey. What was that? Hey, Dewey, the door's locked. What's going on?
Dewey: I told you I was happy without my free game, but you wouldn't listen.
Hal: Dewey! I'm your father. Let me out!
Dewey: Just because someone's in a position of power, you can't let them intimidate you, right?
Hal: Don't you walk away, Dewey! Hey, you're standing up to me. Good boy! Wait! That's all I wanted. [animal squeaks] Hey, what's this? Raccoons. Dewey! Don't you even care that your father is being eaten by raccoons?! Help!