Sue: [to a bird] Hey, no, no, no! Shh! Shh! Get out of here! Hey! Shoo! Woof, woof! Woof, woof! What are crows scared of?
Brad: [gasps] Scarecrows!
Sue: Ooh. Right, right, right.
Brad: [clears throat] [sings] I could wile away the hours, conferring with the flowers Consulting with the rain [drumming] And my head, I'd be scratching While my thoughts were busy hatching If I only had a brain

Mike: All right. Get your stuff out. Let's do this. Let's have some fun. [Brick opens his bag] What are those?
Brick: Oh, books about tennis. I've got the Arthur Ashe biography, So You Want to Play Tennis, and The Grapes of Wrath in case these are boring.
Mike: W-where's your racket?
Brick: I'm sorry. What do you mean?
Mike: Uh, I said, "we're gonna go out and hit."
Brick: Yeah, hit the books. I don't do anything without reading about it first.
Mike: I... can't believe you didn't bring a racket. I know I saw you put a can of balls in there.
Brick: Oh, no. This is Pringles, in case we get hungry from reading and need a snack.

Mike: Let me ask you something, Brick. Is this kid Tobolski a good athlete?
Brick: Oh, yeah. When we run the mile, he's definitely in front of the pack. I usually just run a few feet and then disappear in the bushes, where I've hidden a book. Smart, huh?
Mike: Mm-hmm, and what did your teacher say about you wearing each others' shorts?
Brick: Well, he doesn't really know us, so he just shouts out whatever name's on our shorts.
Mike: Aha. So he calls you...?
Brick: Tobolski.
Mike: And he calls Tobolski...?
Brick: Heck, I guess. Again, I'm not always around to see it 'cause I'm frequently faking a leg cramp to get a banana from the nurse's office.
Mike: [clicks tongue] Brick, don't you get it?
Brick: Oh. So you're saying...
Mike: That's right. You didn't win that medal. Your shorts did.
Brick: Wow. So I did that whole jumping jack for nothing? [Mike nods] Hmm.