Mr. Herkabe: Fascinating timeline, Reese. So let's see. It was the moon landing, the War of 1812, then the Lincoln-Kennedy shoot-out.
Malcolm: [to camera] It's embarrassing enough having Reese in my class this year. What's worse is Herkabe's made him his personal whipping boy.
Mr. Herkabe: Reese, I'm just looking through my notes here, and it appears that that was your twentieth wrong answer in a row. And you know what that means, don't you?
Students: [chant] Monkey dance! Monkey dance! Monkey dance!
Reese: Monkey dance?
Mr. Herkabe: Your first right answer. Well, let's not leave your audience waiting.
[Reese dances like a monkey as his classmates chant. Malcolm gives Mr. Herkabe a disapproving look.]
Mr. Herkabe: Wait, Reese. Stop. This isn't right. [plays music] Okay, continue.

Mr. Herkabe: I won it my senior year.
Malcolm: Football trophy?
Mr. Herkabe: Behind that.
Malcolm: The soccer trophy?
Mr. Herkabe: Behind that.
Malcolm: There's just a bunch of crappy ribbons.
Mr. Herkabe: Behind the spelling bee award.
Malcolm: That thing that looks like it broke off that other trophy?
Mr. Herkabe: I cannot be responsible for the myopic value this sports-obsessed administration places on academic achievement. But that little plaque represents the highest GPA in the history of the school, and it is mine, Malcolm. All mine.
Malcolm: So what?
Mr. Herkabe: So what? I had to work hard for that plaque. I had to score higher than Edna Fornby, who'd held the title for 38 years. A towering intellect, blind since birth, went on to be a Rhodes scholar. Really classy lady. Cried like a baby when I took it from her. What a night.

Reese: I don't know. I can't think any more. Is it... "C"?
Mr. Herkabe: I'm sorry, Reese. That's incorrect. Hammy? [the hamster presses a button marked A] Yes! Fort Ticonderoga is correct. I was looking for a close race, but, Hammy, you've really run away with this thing. [bell rings] I'm sorry, that's all the time we have today, but join us again tomorrow for another exciting installment of "What Is Dumber Than Reese?"

Malcolm: You're nothing but a bully and a sadist, you know that?! How could you possibly take any satisfaction in humiliating Reese?! It's Reese! You have to stop this, now!
Mr. Herkabe: Well, well, well, that took you long enough.
Malcolm: What?
Mr. Herkabe: I've been trying to get your attention since the semester began. I'm surprised you didn't say something last week, when Reese was curled up in a fetal ball under my desk.
Malcolm: What do you want from me?
Mr. Herkabe: Come with me.

Mr. Herkabe: And now, you are on track to take it from me.
Malcolm: What's your point?
Mr. Herkabe: I can't let that happen. And if you don't want to see me destroy your brother every day for the rest of the year, you won't let it happen.
Malcolm: Are you serious?
Mr. Herkabe: As a heart attack. Now, I can't just give you a "B." People are watching. For some reason, I rub people the wrong way. But that doesn't stop you from tanking the course on your own.
Malcolm: Are you really that shallow and petty?
Mr. Herkabe: You have no idea. [bell rings] So, you know, take a few days, think it over. It'll give me more time to think up some challenges for Reese. Do you think hot coals would set off the sprinkler system?

Mr. Herkabe: Buck up, Malcolm. Only 12 more weeks, and then I'll back off and let you pick the course you want to tank.
Malcolm: Hey, we're not in your stupid class anymore, all right? Will you just leave me alone?
Mr. Herkabe: Oh, a sullen rebuke. What a bonus. You know, I might make them get me a bigger plaque when I beat you, Malcolm. Ugh! How can they let it get so dingy? [to the janitor] Hey, Slick! Instead of pushing dust around over there, why don't you polish up these trophies? It's disgraceful. [to Malcolm] You know, I'll admit, it wasn't easy beating old Fornby. Of course she had the added advantage of being blind and club-footed, no distractions, but still, I had to bust my hump that last semester. Did you know, instead of seventh period gym, I created my own AP class? While those Cro-Magnons were chasing balls and sweating like swine, I was sitting in an air-conditioned room with my tie unloosed, discussing Renaissance poetry.
Malcolm: You wore a suit to school?
Mr. Herkabe: And a silk handkerchief. They hated me because I made them look ridiculous.

Malcolm: Thought it over.
Mr. Herkabe: What happened to your lip?
Malcolm: Reese.
Mr. Herkabe: He's a troubled young man. God knows I've tried my best with him, but you can't let that fact poison...
Malcolm: Relax, I'm gonna do it.
Mr. Herkabe: You will?
Malcolm: Reese can't help who he is. And you can't help being a jerk. I'm the only one who has a choice over what I do. So, yeah, I'll take your sick little deal so you can keep your pathetic, meaningless plaque.
Mr. Herkabe: Thank you, Malcolm. I know that you think that this compromised victory will taste like ashes in my mouth, but there's something I learned a long time ago. Ashes don't taste that bad.

Reese: [to Malcolm] B-minus? Ha! I did better than you. For the first time... Wait. A, B, C, D... Never mind.

Hal: You ready?
Dewey: No, wait. I need more time.
Hal: Believe me, I have been through it. You just want to run away, hide under the covers and cry. But you know what? That's how you know you're a man. [dials phone]
Gina: [answers phone] Hello? [Hal gestures for Dewey to speak] Hello? [Hal grabs the phone]
Hal: Hello. Gina. Hi, this is Dewey's dad. He just called to say that he was thinking of you. Oh, and he thinks that homework is dumb. Really? She thinks homework is dumb, too. Wow.

Hal: [to Gina] I can make this right. I have better candy. You'll like this candy. It's really good. Come on, just hop in the car.
[cut to Hal being slammed against the hood of his car by a police man:]
Hal: Come on, give me a break. Don't you remember your first love?