Hal: All right, son, here's what's going to happen. For the next month, you are not allowed to cook a meal.
Reese: That's it? So I don't cook, big deal.
Hal: That means no chicken cordon bleu, no Windsor tortes.
Reese: Wait a second. You said no cooking. The torte is baking.
Hal: No baking, no broiling, no sautéing.
Reese: Come on, you can't do that.
Lois: You heard your father. The stove and all the whisks are off limits for a month.
Reese: Oh, please, I'll be good. I promise. I'll do whatever you say.
Hal: I'm sorry, son. This is the way it has to be. [Reese goes to his room]
Lois: It worked. I think we really turned a corner with him. We have a weapon. His actions will have consequences.
Hal: I know. We can hurt him. We can be parents again. Oh, it's even worth suffering through a month of eating your flank steaks.
Lois: Amen to that.