Malcolm: This is torture. The car's just sitting there and no one can drive it.
Reese: Yeah, it's like that hot nun who comes around every year for toy drive. You know what? We're not going to let Mom and Dad get away with this.
Malcolm: Forget it, Reese. Your bolt cutters can't handle that lock. And Dad's bolt cutters are in the garage.
Reese: It doesn't matter. You don't understand the power of my brain, Malcolm. It's like a deep ravine that sits in total darkness, but once in a while, just for a moment, a brilliant shaft of light shines directly down into it. And that is the moment I will think of a genius plan that will get us into that Mustang.
Malcolm: So the only way for us to get out of this situation is dependent on you being a genius?
Reese: Correct.