Brick: Good morning, Mom.
Frankie: Morning.
Brick: You sleep okay?
Frankie: Actually, I did.
Brick: Glad to hear it. I'm having cereal. Can I get you anything?
Frankie: [v.o.] Hang on. A 5-line volley from Brick without reading, random change of subject, or whispering? [Frankie gasps] Just what I thought.
Frankie: You're burning up.
Frankie: [v.o.] See, fever kind of mellows out Brick's quirks. The more normal he acts, the sicker he is. And that's what kicked off the Heck plague of 2011.
Frankie: Axl, keep your tongue dow- [Axl coughs in Frankie's face]
Sue: Uh-oh. I'm gonna throw up.
Frankie: No, no, no! I just vacuumed. Here, in my hands.
Frankie: [v.o.] But this year was different than the plague of 2010. 'cause no matter how much snot I had to wipe, or barf I had to catch, there was a bright, shining light at the end of this mucousy tunnel... The Royal Wedding.