Brick: Dad, I'm sorry I yelled at you about the whole Cindy thing. It wasn't your fault. You were just the messenger.
Mike: Ah, don't take it so hard, Brick. You... You've got a lot of life left.
Brick: It's fine. I just thought you'd get what I was going through 'cause you always talk about that girl. You know, the one whose house you always rode over to on your bike?
Mike: Ah, Debbie Sullivan. Yep. She had the greatest hair. At Christmas, she used to put jingle bells in her ponytail. Man, she was something. Here's the thing, Brick. When it comes to women, there are no easy answers. I don't know much, but I've picked up a few things over the years. Even though you're only in...
Brick: Eighth.
Mike: Eighth. I was gonna say eighth grade. Women, in my opinion, are somewhat interested in what you have to say or what you think, but they're definitely interested in what you feel.
Frankie: [v.o.] There's nothing like a father/son talk. Of course, Brick didn't use a word of Mike's advice. He decided it was easier just to pay Cindy 10 bucks to never kiss another boy again.