Axl: Stupid watch! Stupid vest! Nope, don't need these anymore, 'cause I'm not going anywhere.
Frankie: Honey, don't take your clothes off.
Axl: No! These clothes are for winners, and I am a loser. God! You know what? Just face it. I peaked in high school. I'm nothing but a boxer-short-wearing, messy-haired divorcé! I'll just park my 'Bago in the driveway and live out there.
Frankie: So, you really don't have anything else going on, no résumés anywhere, no leads, no job possibilities?
Axl: Oh, Dad, make her stop!
Frankie: I'm sorry. I'm making it worse. Boy problem. Let me know when it's fixed.