Hal: Mr. Herkabe! Mr. Herkabe, uh, listen, uh, I've spent the last half hour thinking, and, uh, now that I've had a chance to cool off, I-I just wanted to apologize for earlier.
Mr. Herkabe: Oh?
Hal: Yeah. I mean, you were just doing your job.
Mr. Herkabe: Well, your apology is noted and not accepted.
Hal: What?! Come on, I said I was sorry.
Mr. Herkabe: Well, it's a little late for that. You're hereby expelled from the program!
Hal: What?!
Mr. Herkabe: Remove yourself from school property immediately. Good day, sir.

Mr. Herkabe: Malcolm! Where have you been? I called an emergency study session.
Malcolm: What? We just had an emergency study session last night.
Mr. Herkabe: This is the Academic Octathlon. We are pitted against the brightest minds from every high school in the country. From now on, we will work through lunch every day.
Malcolm: I thought this was supposed to be fun.
Stevie: Fun... is for losers.
Kevin: We're all making sacrifices, Malcolm. I've had to blow off my cello lessons.
Lloyd: I missed my uncle's funeral.
Dabney: I've been tanking my grades for the past three months so I could be our team's mandatory "C" student.
Mr. Herkabe: [grunts loudly] That food is not there for you to eat, it is there so I don't get into trouble for making you work through lunch. Now focus!

Mr. Herkabe: Here it is, children. The battlefield. Get comfortable with it. Make it your own.
Kevin: I'm getting a panic rash over my homesick rash.
Mr. Herkabe: Suck it up, people. Tomorrow is the finals. Now, do you see that air conditioning vent? Jefferson High has three asthmatics on their team. If we could just get them to sit directly beneath... Mr. Baffert. Oh, you've done it again. What a stellar job at organizing...
Mr. Baffert: Don't suck up, Lionel. It's pathetic.
Malcolm: Don't worry, sir. We were ready to grab your ankles if you got too far up there.

Mr. Herkabe: Oh, my God. They brought in Rubinger from Minnesota.
Malcolm: Who?
Mr. Herkabe: IBM's been studying him. Rumor has it he was a Siamese twin that got both brains. Walk with me. You see those little freaks over there that you call friends? Now, they need to win here so they can get into one of the top colleges because that's the only way they're going to become successful enough so that people don't beat them up every day for the rest of their lives. Now, are you going to deny them that?
Malcolm: I'll try my best.
Mr. Herkabe: Good. Now, the judges will spot Morse code easily, so I've developed this rudimentary fingertip semaphore. Memorize this.
Malcolm: You want me to cheat?
Mr. Herkabe: Let's call it success advantaging.
Malcolm: Forget it. I'm not going to cheat.

Mr. Herkabe: Someone I know was a busy little team player last night.
Malcolm: It just came to me what the right thing to do was.
Mr. Herkabe: I've never been prouder of you than at this moment. We never spoke.

Mr. Herkabe: You gave everyone the test, didn't you?
Malcolm: In fingertip semaphore, this means...
Mr. Herkabe: I know what it means!

Mr. Herkabe: [over P.A.] A reminder, class officer ballots can be picked up at the registrar's office. JV basketball practice will again be held in the auxiliary gym. Oh, and Patty Lin committed a Code Nine in the library and is hereby suspended. [hits glockenspiel] I trust the stick of gum was worth it.

Stephanie: Point of order! Can we start Smile Patrol before the kids go home?
Malcolm: Smile Patrol?
Wayne: We thought it'd be fun to roam the halls for anyone who's not smiling and give them a ticket. [slaps a "Smile Patrol" sticker on Malcolm's shirt]
Philip: Meeting adjourned.
Mr. Herkabe: [to Malcolm] I think someone's going to have to write themselves up.

Mr. Herkabe: Hello, Malc.
Malcolm: Malc?
Mr. Herkabe: You'll have to forgive me, I'm feeling very odd tonight. What is it called when you look around and you are not filled with festering rage?
Malcolm: Being moderately happy?
Mr. Herkabe: That is it! I am moderately happy. I have brake pads, and enough left over for a side mirror. And now I find that there's a wine tasting booth with an incredibly under-priced Riesling, just 25 cents a glass. So, if you'll excuse me, I think I saw a slightly drunk Ms. Bartlett headed for the ladies' room.

Victor: That's it, Mr. Herkabe, you just broke the North High bank.
Mr. Herkabe: Sometimes you're kissed by the gods.
Victor: Your trip to the corndog cart has been comped.
Mr. Herkabe: I should hope so. Ladies.