Mike: What the hell happened?
Rusty: Huh? Oh. Well, you know how it is with the economy.
Mike: The economy burned down your house?
Rusty: Well, no, that was, uh... That was a massive fire.
Mike: Why didn't you call me?
Rusty: Are you a fireman?
Mike: I'm your brother, for God sake. How'd this happen?
Rusty: Eh, well, I was, uh, runnin' the hot plate about four weeks ago, and I noticed one of the cords was frayed. I kept telling myself, keep your eye on that. But wouldn't you know it? I fell asleep facedown with a cigarette in my mouth. I blame myself partially.

Mike: When was I supposed to know this? I only found out 'cause I went by the house to invite you to Thanksgiving.
Big Mike: Oh, no. You don't want an old man with a broken hip at your Thanksgiving.
Mike: That's true, but my wife does. Please, Dad. Please, please, please come to Thanksgiving.
Big Mike: Oh, I don't want to be a bother.
Mike: It's not a choice, Dad. The nurses say you gotta be discharged tomorrow, and they can't let you go home alone. Don't worry. We got TV and crummy food at our house, too.
Big Mike: You don't exactly roll out the red carpet, do you?

Mike: Dad.
Big Mike: Son.
Mike: They told me at the desk you broke your hip three weeks ago. Why the hell didn't you call me?
Big Mike: Do you fix hips?
Mike: I live 15 minutes away. You don't think I want to know when my dad goes into the hospital?
Big Mike: Oh, you got your own concerns. I was fine. I-I dragged myself on my belly from the yard into the house, knocked the telephone onto the floor, and dialed with my face. [chuckles]