Malcolm: You wanted to see me, Mr. Herkabe?
Mr. Herkabe: Malcolm, one of the many perks of working in the glamorous field of public education is the constant opportunity to suddenly increase your workload. It's as big a morale booster as the constant chiseling of gum from one's shoes...
Malcolm: You know, you can come right out and tell me how you're screwing me over. You don't have to make a speech every time.
Mr. Herkabe: Be patient.

Mr. Herkabe: Yesterday I was informed that all faculty members must serve as advisors to at least one of the school's many clubs and organizations. I've been assigned the North High Boosters.
Malcolm: And you're telling me because...?
Mr. Herkabe: It's coming. The Boosters are only nine members, which makes it a group. We need ten for it to be a club. And if it isn't a club, I don't get my $200 advisor fee.
Malcolm: You want me to join?
Mr. Herkabe: I love it when a victim fully grasps the horror. You have proved a worthy patsy.
Malcolm: I don't want to be in your stupid club.
Mr. Herkabe: It's not a club until you've joined. Keep up.
Malcolm: Okay, what's the blackmail?
Mr. Herkabe: [sighs] Why must you rush these things? As Vice Principal, I write the college recommendations. I've written two for you. One has your complete academic record. The other has your complete academic record and a short paragraph about your personality.
Malcolm: That's not fair!
Mr. Herkabe: The meeting starts at 3:15 tomorrow. Come early if you want spirit cookies.

Mr. Herkabe: They don't like you any more than you like them. They think you're too lazy and selfish to be Booster material.
Malcolm: You're lying.
Mr. Herkabe: Oh, my God, you care.
Malcolm: No, I don't. They're a bunch of hypocrites pretending to be into charity just to have an excuse to throw parties and socialize and be surrounded by balloons.
Mr. Herkabe: Is this going to devolve into you shambling around the quad come next June desperate for someone to sign your yearbook?
Malcolm: Calling me selfish and lazy? I could raise ten times the money those idiots ever could!
Mr. Herkabe: Please. You're not seriously thinking of "showing them a thing or two," are you?
Malcolm: Shut up!

Malcolm: I want out of the Booster club. You can blackmail me all you want, but those kids are stupid, the auctioneer job is stupid, the whole thing blows and I'm quitting.
Mr. Herkabe: Someone's putting the "boo" in booster.
Malcolm: Did you see the crap they're trying to auction? 500 takeout menus from a Chinese restaurant, an AOL starter kit, scrapbook lessons, a 15-minute neck massage from Earl the janitor. Nobody wants that stuff. I'm out of there.
Mr. Herkabe: Good for you. Go right ahead.
Malcolm: What?
Mr. Herkabe: I officially stopped caring at 2:15 when I was handed this check. And now I can finally splurge on new brake pads and treat my Civic like the lady that she is. You should really learn to trust me, Malcolm. It worked out well for everyone. I got my money, you get to quit, and the Boosters get to be rid of you.

Hal: Just think, when we get to heaven we'll feel like this all the time.
Lois: Wouldn't that be nice?
Hal: What do you mean?
Lois: I mean, it would be nice, heaven.
Hal: You mean it will be nice.
Lois: I just don't personally believe in that.
Hal: Well, okay, maybe not the clouds and the harps and angels, but you do believe in some kind of heaven, right? [Lois sips her drink] Okay, so you don't believe in heaven, but you do believe in some kind of paradise where our two souls will go spend eternity.
Lois: I'm just not much of an afterlife person.
Hal: Wait a minute, Lois. Where are good people rewarded and bad people punished?
Lois: Right here on Earth, if I have anything to say about it.

Hal: Good dinner, honey.
Lois: Thanks. I'm stunned I had time to cook anything. Traffic was horrible, and then on the way to the market I hit a possum.
Hal: You're kidding.
Lois: It was just awful. It laid there moaning and dying. I didn't know what to do. So I finally called Animal Services. I waited and waited, nobody ever came. I was so upset. I never did have time to get to the store.
Malcolm: If you never made it to the store, then what are we eating?
Lois: Something from the freezer. Finish it.

Hal: For the next five days, you boys will be my slaves. It will be miserable, hard, exhausting work, but Nope, that's it. Just miserable, hard work.
Malcolm: So no matter what we have planned or how busy we are, you're okay with exploiting us for child labor?
Hal: Good, we're clear. Let's get to work.
Reese: Come to Papa.
Malcolm: [quietly] Dad?
Hal: Oh, no, you don't, Reese. No way. You give the nail gun to Dewey.

Hal: Keep 'em closed. Almost there.
Lois: Hal, you spun me around 50 times. I still know we're going to the garage.
Hal: Okay, open 'em.
Lois: Oh, Hal, it's It's beautiful. Well, I didn't do it all myself. The boys worked their butts off.
Malcolm: You know, that's a working wet bar.
Dewey: And a real New Zealand Mocking Mask.
Hal: Congratulations, boys, you did a fantastic job. Now, if you set one foot in here, I will cripple you.
Reese: What?
Hal: From now on, every night from 6:00 to 7:00 is "tiki time." Tiki time means your mother and I will be in here, alone, with no questions, no interruptions, no communication from you boys of any kind. Malcolm, you'll cover any of your mom's shifts at Lucky Aide. Reese, Dewey, baby-sit Jamie.
Reese: But-
Hal: No buts. You're the ones who ruined our relationship in the first place.
Lois: Hal.
Hal: [hands Jamie to Dewey] He needs changing. Aloha.

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.

Dewey: This is so unfair.
Reese: Yeah, when I grow up, I'm going to do exactly the same thing to my kids.
Dewey: Yeah, mine are going to pay big time.