Malcolm: I really appreciate your letting me take this vocational exam. I know it's generally for older kids. I just felt like I really needed some help. I don't want to make a wrong decision. Well... did you get the test results?
Mr. Young: Oh, yes.
Malcolm: What did they say I should do?
Mr. Young: Well... according to this... absolutely anything you want.
Malcolm: What?
Mr. Young: Yeah, you-you scored equally excellent in all areas.
According to this test, there isn't a career on the planet you wouldn't be great at. Congratulations.
Malcolm: Well, that... that doesn't exactly clarify anything. I-I was kind of hoping...
Mr. Young: You know, kid, there are a lot of people who would kill to have both "professional golfer" and "neurosurgeon" on their test results.
Malcolm: Yeah, but that doesn't help me. I mean, how am I supposed to decide if I don't have any parameters at all?
Mr. Young: Well, boo-hoo for you, Mr. Unlimited Potential. Let me wipe my tears for you on my plastic briefcase.
Malcolm: Does the test at least say what I might like?
Mr. Young: Aside from exposing middle-aged underachievers for the failures they are? Nope.
Malcolm: Can I take the test again?
Mr. Young: Uh... no. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to catch a bus or I'll be late for my night job. Unless, of course, you'd like that, too.