Sue: You know, I went on kickinitteenstyle.com and took the "Rate Your Assignment Partner" quiz, and you are a "severe collaboration limitation."
Axl: With no due respect, I disagree.
Sue: I thought you might say something like that, so I also ranked you on the sibling scale, and guess what? You're a "bummer brother." So... yeah.
Axl: Whatever. This whole thing is lame. Except kitchen floor hoops, which I just invented, and is totally awesome.
Sue: I know you fancy yourself some kind of rebel, Axl, but sometimes in life, you just have to follow the rules. I put on sunscreen an hour before going outside. I wait till the bus comes to a complete stop before standing. You don't think I would love to fill up on bread? I would. But that's not how the world works. The rule of this project is that you and I take the allotted two weeks and do it together. And that's just what we're gonna do, mister. 'Cause a "D" might fly in Ax Land, but it doesn't work in Sue City. And not the one in Iowa. The one right here.

Frankie: Sue, are you okay?
Sue: No, not at all. All of a sudden, Matt's turned into the world's worst kisser.
Frankie: What do you mean?
Sue: Out of nowhere, he puts his... his tongue... into... my mouth. Oh, my God. What is that? Who does that?
Frankie: Well...
Sue: I can't help but feel bad for him. It's like he totally forgot how to kiss. I mean, what place does a tongue have in kissing? What should I do? I mean, I don't want to embarrass him, but he has to be told. [gasps] Wait. I think I saw something on kickinitteenstyle.com on how to tell your boyfriend he's a bad kisser. I'm gonna go check it out.
Frankie: [v.o.] I really need to talk to Sue more.

Mike: So how's the job search coming?
Frankie: Well, I spent the whole morning looking through the want ads, and it got me to thinking. Why should I go out and get another crappy job?
Mike: 'Cause you lost your old crappy job?
Frankie: No, I'm serious, Mike. I mean, I'm sitting there, and it dawned on me. I never think long-term about my life. I always take the first thing that comes along... first job, first house, first guy that asked me to marry him.
Mike: Mm-hmm.
Frankie: Let's face it, Mike. We're eeny people. You know, "eeny meeny miny mo". Just that we never make it to "mo." We always stop at "eeny." Eeny houses, eeny cars, eeny kids. Don't you ever just wanna be a "mo" person?
Mike: You know, sometimes, if you just open the paper and point, you can find a pretty great job.
Frankie: Eeny thinking! I don't want to just take the next random job like I always do. I wanna do something that I'm passionate about.
Mike: Oh, no, you're not gonna start beading again, are you?
Frankie: No. That was dumb. Look, I'm just talking about finding something that I'm good at, maybe going back to school and... I don't know. Learning a skill that people might wanna pay me for. You know, I read in More magazine there's lots of people who have these whole second acts.
Mike: How old are these people?
Frankie: Old, Mike. Like us. What do you think? Second act, huh? If it doesn't work out, I promise I will take the next low-paying, demeaning crap job that comes my way.

Mr. Ehlert: Here's the thing, Frances. The truth is, you don't look nice today. And since there's no real way to say this, I'm just gonna say it. I'm gonna have to let you go.
Frankie: Let me go... unless I sell more cars?
Mr. Ehlert: Let me rephrase that. I'm letting you go.
Frankie: Unless I start being more on time?
Mr. Ehlert: Frances, don't make this harder on me than it is. I just can't afford to carry this many people when business is slow. It's not you. It's the economy.
Frankie: Is this because I dozed off in the back of the minivan? I'm gettin' that checked out. It might have something to do with my iron levels.
Mr. Ehlert: I don't want to hear about any lady parts! Look, this is all based on seniority. Don't get me wrong. You're plenty old. But you were the last one hired.
Frankie: Wait. What? This is real? You're really firing me? You can't do that. My son's going to college. We just found out Sue's gonna have a palate expander.
Mr. Ehlert: Look, Frances, if the economy picks up and things change, feel free to come back and... buy a car.

Axl: Oh, this is so unfair! It's my senior year. How am I supposed to rule without a car?!
Mike: Well, your Mom's going back to school. If you want a new car, you'll have to get a second job to pay for it.
Axl: So I'm gonna have two jobs. She's gonna have none? You're the mom! You're the one who's supposed to be working yourself to death! Wait. You guys are messing with me, right? This is all a big setup. Is my new car outside the window?
Mike: You're not getting a car, you idiot. We'll be lucky if we don't have to sell one of ours to pay for mom's school.
Axl: What? I can't believe you're telling me this! These are adult problems. Whatever happened to protecting our feelings? Whatever happened to not upsetting the kids?
Frankie: We thought you'd be mature enough to handle it.
Axl: Well, I'm not. So from now on, don't be sitting us down and telling us bad things. We'll just assume those are happening.