Philip: I can't imagine what kind of excuse you could come up with. Do you have anything to say in your own defense?
Will: Nothing. It's shameful, Uncle Phil. I mean, here you are busting your hump trying to impart values and teach basic human decency and I turn around and do some mess like this.
Philip: I just don't get it, Will. I mean what is going on in that head of yours?
Will: I don't know, Uncle Phil. I'm out of control. Please stop me before I disobey again.
Philip: Don't you ever stop to think before you do these disgusting things?
Will: Of course, I do, Uncle Phil. Do you think I like being the way I am? I'm a victim. I'm a victim of my imagination. Help me.
Philip: Well all right, since you put it that way. I'm not going to punish you, Will.
Will: You know, that's radical, Uncle Phil, but it just might work.
Philip: I'm not going to punish you today, maybe not even tomorrow. You see, I need to think a long, long time about just what I'm going to do with you. I don't know, it might come to me in the middle of the night or maybe next week, or a few years from now. In the meantime, why don't you worry about it? Be afraid, Will. Be very afraid. [laughs maniacally]
[sometime later:]
Philip: [reading a book of Medieval Tortures] I've got it. Will!

Jazz: We better get out of here, my brother. Any minute now that minister's going to realize his house ain't on fire.
Will: I don't believe this, Jazz, man, together we are invincible.
Jazz: Granted, my brother, we're good, but people can still see us.

Will: Mirror, mirror on the wall, Jean-Claude Van Damn, I'm fine.