Frankie: Axl? It's 7:37.
[When Frankie lifts the pile of clothes on Axl's bed and finds it empty, a swarm of moths fly out. Axl sits up on the floor, where he was sleeping under a pile of dirty clothes.]
Axl: Ew! Calm it down, Mom. I don't need a babysitter.
Frankie: No, you need an exterminator! Did I not tell you to clean this room? Things are hatching in this place.