Craig: Oh, Lois, thank God. Fred asked me to scrub out the Dumpsters tonight, but Paula wants to work on her short iron, so I had to schedule an emergency lesson with the golf pro. The guy charges, like, 90 bucks an hour. It's really eating away at my savings, but I guess I have no one to blame but myself, and, oh, my God, you know about the affair. Damn it! Damn it! You do know, right?
Lois: Yes, I know.
Craig: Damn it!
Lois: Craig, how could you lie to me after all I've done for you? I let you sleep on our floor when you though your cat's ghost was trying to kill you. I settled that feud between you and the Girl Scout troop.
Craig: They started it.

Lois: Do you believe this?
Hal: What happened?
Lois: I was half way through my haircut when Troy casually mentioned that his price had gone up from $21 to $28. And he thought I would just sit there and take it. Well, I showed him, Hal. I got up and I walked right out of there. This is extortion, pure and simple.

Reese: You are going to be so proud of me.
Malcolm: Why?
Reese: I spent the last five nights in a chat room reeling in this creep named Heinrich. I got his address and showed up at his house with a printed transcript of our conversations. He calls me "Sugarbuns" 15 times on nine separate occasions.
Malcolm: Reese.
Reese: So the guy starts crying, "What about my wife? What about my kids? I'll do anything." Entrapment. It's not just for police anymore.
Malcolm: Why do I care about this?
Reese: The guy works at the racetrack. He's going to make bets for us on the horses we pick. Well, the horses you pick. This is tomorrow's racing form. You'll pick the winners and I'll place the bets, we split the winnings 50-50, like brothers.
Malcolm: That's kind of nice.
Reese: Yeah. I got to keep this guy on his toes. Time to leave a suspicious message on his answering machine.
Malcolm: [to camera] Wow, blackmailing a pervert to facilitate underage gambling. How could this not work out?