Frankie: Okay, Brick, you know the drill. Grab a box of something fattening and a couple of diet sodas, and let's hit the road.
Brick: I'm not going.
Frankie: What?
Brick: Sorry, Mom, I can't do it. Every time you have an errand, it's, "Get in the car, Brick." "Get a snack, Brick." I'm not gonna be your poodle anymore. I'm done. [whispers] Poodle anymore. I'm done.