Malcolm: Hey, Reese, which one stinks more? [Reese kicks the garbage can] What's your problem?
Reese: You couldn't keep your big mouth shut until after the funeral. Now I have to wait for another relative to die to bury this thing. It could be weeks.
Malcolm: You'll think of something.
Reese: No, I won't. You have good ideas all the time, but for me, this was special.
Malcolm: Hey! You can't leave this mess here. I've got a guest coming over.
Reese: Too bad. Thanks to you, no one has to do anything anymore. It's anarchy, baby. That's the word, right?