Mike: What are you doing?
Axl: I'm packing my nunchucks for the trip.
Mike: Aw, that's great. The boy genius is packing his nunchucks. No one is letting you on a plane with nunchucks.
Axl: I believe you're thinking of toothpaste.
Mike: I'm not thinking of toothpaste!
Axl: All the stuff you know about air travel is what you've seen on the TV, but I'm doing the real thing.

Mike: What's going on?
Frankie: Don't talk, just listen to me. You can talk after I get it all out, but you have to let me finish first. I love you and I support you and I back you on a ton of stuff, stuff that I don't even agree with you about, like that whole thing with Ron Donahue and the giant spatula. And the caves... nobody wanted to do that, and all these years, you won't let anybody buy drinks or snacks at the movies. And I always say, "Your father's right. These prices are crazy." But here's the thing... you can't get the Reese's Peanut Butter four pack at the grocery store. You can only get it at the movies, and so you pay a premium. And I think that's fair, but it's important to you, so I'm fine smuggling in crappy snacks. But I'm not fine with this. Axl needs to go to Europe. I'm not talking about letting him go. I'm saying he needs to go. This might be the only chance he ever gets. He needs to go, Mike. I will happily eat off-brand peanut-butter cups for the rest of my life, but he needs to go.

Brick: I think I figured out what's causing my back problems. It's this chair you made me sit in.
Frankie: Made you sit in?
Mike: For years, you begged us to get you a normal chair.
Brick: Well, I have to listen to my body. Besides, I miss my old chair. I sat in it for as long as I can remember. It's like a trusted friend, a faithful comrade.
Mike: You don't have to write it a poem. It was a lawn chair.
Brick: Which happens to have been perfectly molded to my coccyx. [whispering] Coccyx. [normal voice] Wow, that's been a while.