Axl: I had the lowest of expectations, and I'm still disappointed.

Frankie: [v.o.] Americans have had a long love affair with their cars. Road trips, tailgating, family vacations... But these days, not so much.
Mr. Ehlert: America is treating its cars like an old wife it's sick of sleeping with because maybe she's gained a little weight or stopped taking care of herself. No offense, Frances.
Frankie: None taken?
Mr. Ehlert: America's bored with their cars, and we need a little PR to fix that. Everybody give a big hand to our new customer-relations supervisor, Frances Heck.
Frankie: Oh. [applause]
Mr. Ehlert: From now on, Frances, you're responsible for writing birthday cards to all the cars we've sold over the last 10 years.
Frankie: I'm writing birthday cards to cars?
Mr. Ehlert: You have until next week to do 5,000. Congratulations on your promotion.

Sue: I'm gonna get postcards from every fun thing we do for my birthday weekend, and Mom's gonna help me make a scrapbook.
Axl: Awesome. I'm gonna take pictures of every lame thing we do on this lame weekend, and then Mom can look to them for clues as to why I ran away.

Frankie: [v.o.] So Sue's little side trips had landed us in Chicago, smack in the middle of rush hour. But three cranky hours later, we finally made it to the motel Sue picked.
Axl: Oh, my God. [siren wails nearby] Sue should never be allowed to decide anything in our entire lives. This place makes our house look nice.
Frankie: Axl.

Frankie: [v.o.] I read something somewhere about: "No matter how dark the night, the sun comes up... ...and something, something." Anyway, the sun came up, and it sure didn't make that room look any better.

Mike: Shall we toast to your new promotion?
Frankie: I know, right? More busywork I don't need. Which reminds me, I got roped into volunteering at Brick's class tomorrow so you're gonna have to do it.
Mike: No, I don't think I am.
Frankie: Come on. You're always saying you're looking to get involved.
Mike: No, I don't think I've ever said that once in my entire life.

Boy #1: Th... Th... Th...
Mike: "The." The word's "the." Just like last time. Still "the."
Boy #1: I don't think so.
Mike: Well, I'm pretty sure I'm right. [shares an eye roll with Brick]
Boy #2: This is a hard one.
Mike: Guys, we've been on the same page for 20 minutes. I'll tell you what. Why doesn't Brick read a page to you guys, just to get a little momentum going?
Brick: "And then, as if in a dream, a mysterious specter rose from 'the' darkness. A brilliant light emanating from its golden and splendiferous orb."
Penny: Did he memorize that?
Mike: No, that's just what he does. He's been reading like that since he was 2.
Mrs. Thomas: Brick is really something. He can't remember to throw his lunch away or pull up his pants, but then he has a victory like last week and you almost forget the other things.
Mike: He had a victory? What kind of victory?
Mrs. Thomas: Oh, I thought you knew. He won the school-wide spelling bee. School-wide.
Mike: Hmm.

Frankie: "Dear beige hatchback, I can't believe you're another year older."

Mike: Frankie, do you have any idea how smart this kid is? He's light-years ahead of the other kids. They're idiots next to him. Tell her, Brick. Tell her how stupid they are.
Brick: They're pretty stupid.
Frankie: Mike.
Mike: Sorry, I'm excited. Did you know our boy won the school-wide spelling bee?
Frankie: Brick, that's great. Why didn't you say anything? Did they give you a certificate or something? [Mike mimics fanfare]
Brick: It was no big deal.
Mike: You hear this kid? No big deal? He beat fifth graders. He qualified for the Orson County Bee at the Elks this Saturday. And if he wins that, Midwest Regionals in Chicago next week. [Frankie gasps] And if he wins that, the Scripps Spelling Bee in Washington, D.C. We got a champ here. Heck! Heck! Heck! [mimics crowd cheer]
Brick: Yeah, I don't think I'm gonna do it.
Frankie: What? Why not?
Brick: Well, it's Saturday. Saturday's my day to decompress.
Mike: Look, Brick, the overlap between things you're good at and things people give out trophies for is pretty small. You gotta do this, son. You have a gift.

Frankie: [v.o.] Wow. I'd never seen Mike like this about anything not sports-related. But it sort of makes sense.
See, when you're a parent of Brick, you spend a lot of time with your face looking like this...
[montage of Mike sighing]
Frankie: [v.o.] So if Mike had a chance to look like this... [Mike smiles] you can't blame him for wanting to run with it. For the next week, Mike coached him like he'd never been coached before.
Mike: Are you ready to spell?
Brick: I'm ready to spell.
Mike: I can't hear you.
Brick: I'm ready to spell!
Mike: "Perspicacious."
Brick: P-E-R-S-P-I-C-A-C-I-O-U-S. "Perspicacious."
Mike: Is that right?
Brick: Uh-huh.
Mike: Thattaboy.