[As Reese sleeps, Malcolm puts his hand in a jug of water]
Malcolm: [to camera] I picked this trick up in camp last year. This is going to be great. Wait for it. Wait for it- Oh, screw it. [pours water on Reese's crotch]
Reese: [wakes up] Oh, man.
Malcolm: What's wrong, Reese?
Reese: Nothing! Just- Just shut up and go to sleep, okay?
Malcolm: [to camera] It's good to be alive.

Reese: I finally figured out how Mom could tell we were lying.
Malcolm: How?
Reese: Pheromones. She could smell the fear on us. Next time you lie, you have to take a shower first.

Francis: [on the phone] What are you doing home?
Malcolm: Mom's sick. She thinks it's Sunday. We kind of went with it.
Francis: Cool. Oh, dude, I need you to do me a giant favor. Go check the mail. Okay, there should be a letter there from Southern Alabama State.
Malcolm: Yeah, it's here. Why, did you apply there?
Francis: No, there's probably no point in me ever trying to apply there. I kind of drove a backhoe into their swimming pool.
Malcolm: Oh, man. Did they have to drain the pool?
Francis: No, if you put a ten-foot crack in them, they pretty much drain themselves. They did have to drain the gym, though.

Lois: I'm going to kill him. I am going to kill him! I am going to kill him.
Reese: [making ghostly sounds] This is all a dream.
Lois: Oh, shut up, Reese!

Reese: How's Mom?
Hal: Oh, she's got a temperature of 104. I've never seen her this sick. It's like some sort of horrible science experiment in there.
Malcolm: [to camera] Mom's been sick with the flu all weekend. I'd feel more sympathetic, but two months with no TV has killed the part of me that cares.

Malcolm: Mom?
Lois: [groans]
Reese: You're starting to look better.
Malcolm: [to camera] He's not lying. Mom kills most germs on contact but when one does get through, it's a doozy.

Lois: This is the last Sunday of your punishment.
Malcolm: Okay, Mom, we got it. We're still grounded.
Reese: [whispers] What are you doing?
Malcolm: Mom slept all weekend. She still thinks it's Sunday. You know what this means?
Reese: No.
Malcolm: We can pretend today's Sunday and stay home from school.
Reese: Oh, I'm in.
Malcolm: Okay, Mom. We're just going to go continue our punishment.
Reese: And we're definitely not going to school.
Malcolm: Shut up.

Reese: Come on, already, think of something!
Malcolm: I'm trying. All I've got are all the reasons this was a stupid idea in the first place. Even if we manage to keep mom fooled, we're screwed when Dad gets home. It basically means we're going to sit here, bored out of our minds for eight hours and wait for Mom to top our last punishment.
Reese: How could you be so stupid? I could have done that myself.

Malcolm: [on the phone] We're stuck in the house with nothing to do.
Francis: You guys should go down to the arcade on Hillcrest. The manager down there has a pretty enlightened outlook about a kid's right to choose his own school hours.
Malcolm: We don't have any money, though.
Francis: All right, you guys are doing me a favor, so I'm going to let you in on a little secret. Mom keeps some money in the top left drawer of her dresser, but she won't notice if you only take between five and seven dollars.

Lois: [drowsy] What are you boys doing?
Dewey: Looking for your money.
Lois: It's not there. I moved it to the back of the closet.
Reese: Where she hides our Christmas presents?
Lois: No, I moved those to the attic.
Malcolm: Um, Mom, where'd you hide that football I broke the window with?
Lois: In the garage.
Malcolm: And when you made chipped beef on toast last week, was that really beef?
Lois: Who knows? It was 39 cents a pound.