Sue: Hey, Dad, where's the picture of me? You got Mom, other mom, Axl, Brick, Axl and Brick, and Limestone, the dead quarry cat?
Mike: Huh.
Axl: Why do you have a Reservoir Dogs ticket stub?
Mike: B-because it's... it's meaningful to me, okay?
Sue: I'm below a stub?!
Brick: Hey, he has a punch card to the good ice cream store. You never let us go to the Gelato Barn because you say it's too expensive.
Axl: He's one punch away from a leaning tower of pistachio.
Mike: Enough, all of you! Stay out of my stuff. A man's wallet is private. Don't mess with that. That's our will.

Sue: This is the death napkin?! I don't want to see it.
Axl: I want to see it.
Frankie: Hey! That's not for you guys. That napkin's for the lawyers.
Brick: Wait. The death napkin's from Chi-Chi's? Hmm, I expected it from somewhere with a little more gravitas.
Axl: Come on! Let me see! You guys are gonna kick it soon, and since I'll be in charge, I don't want any surprises.
Mike: There's no money. Surprise!

Frankie: Why is this still here? Whose job was it to shower with the big cereal bowl this morning?
Sue: No. This is horrible. Now there's no will. What did it say?
Brick: It doesn't really matter what it said about me. I imagine it was gonna be revised anyway to reflect that I'm the finder of the wallet.
Mike: Okay, all of you, take it down a notch. Your mom and I aren't going anywhere. Unfortunately, we have longevity on both sides.

Frankie: All right, you want a will? Fine. You got it. We'll make a will. "The last will and testament of Michael and Frances Heck." So, what do you guys want?
Axl: [sighs] I'm good.
Brick: Nothing I want.
Sue: I can't think of anything off the top of my head.
Frankie: [v.o.] Well, I guess that's the good thing about not having anything anybody wants... there's no fighting... Not like that Casey Kasem's family. And would we like to be somewhere between Casey Kasem's family and people who do their dishes in the shower? Sure. There's room for improvement. But maybe we are leaving our kids something good... the ability to pull together in tough times. And that's something you can't put on a napkin.

Frankie: [v.o.] Since the dawn of time, there has been one truth about men... if they can toss it, pass it, dribble it, or throw it, they will.
Mike: Heads up.
Brick: I'm open.
Frankie: Knock it off, guys. Stop throwing things in the house.
Axl: Why'd you buy fruit if you don't want us to throw it?
Frankie: I didn't buy it. I took it from the Holiday Inn lobby when I stopped to use the bathroom.
Mike: Get open!
Brick: Another son right over here!

Mike: Hey! You almost hit your sister.
Axl: Don't worry. I'll get her next time.
Mike: Look alive.
Frankie: [catches the apple] Okay. No. Listen. Cut it out, you guys. You two are gonna break something. No more throwing in the kitchen, all right? You know fruit ball never ends well.
[When Frankie tosses her spoon into the sink, it collapses into the cabinet in a cloud of dust. Two jets of water start shooting out. As Mike, Frankie and Axl try to stem the flow of water, Sue takes an eraser to her "Sue-mometer"]

Ms. Huff: Sue, I don't want you to get stressed out about this. Every senior gets worried they're not gonna graduate.
Sue: Are you saying I'm not gonna graduate?
Ms. Huff: Oh, no! [chuckles] Not without P.E., no, won't.
Sue: But I'm applying to colleges. There's a Sue-mometer. I already planned how I'm gonna thank my parents on the top of my graduation cap.
Ms. Huff: Okay, now, don't you worry. We'll get you all fixed up... [keys clacking] ... Unless we can't. [chuckles] Okay. Now, you're a couple months behind, but we can slip you out of study hall and slide you right into Coach Tink Babbit's P.E. class.
Sue: Really? That'll do it? I'll switch the classes and I'll get the credit and everything will be fine?
Ms. Huff: Yep, not to worry. Everything will be just fine. Fingers crossed.

Coach Tink: Everyone thinks gym's an easy "A," all you got to do is show up and put on your shorts. I mean, you do have to put on your shorts. It's 10% of your grade. But if you want an "A," you're gonna have to earn it. Earn it.
Sue: Don't you worry, Coach Babbit. I will do whatever it takes.
Coach Tink: Well, it's gonna take a lot. We're right in the middle of our unit on tinikling.
Sue: What's tinikling?
Coach Tink: Ugh. You're kidding, right? [hands and sticks clapping rhythmically] So long as you're coordinated, it should be no problem. Okay, people, let's hustle!

Sue: This is a nightmare. How does she expect us to be able to do this?
Coach Tink: One week to the final, ladies. You got to make it through your entire routine, or you fail. A snapped ankle is no excuse. You can't tank tinikling, not on Tink's time. Heck, get in there! "Wow" us!

Sue: Ooh, Dad, wait. I need your help with my P.E. homework. Can you do the other end of the sticks with mom?
Mike: I'm on my way to mow the lawn. We can't be the house with no sink and no yard, or we're treading into Glossner territory.
Frankie: Nice try. You haven't mowed the lawn in a week, and now all of a sudden, you have to do it? If I'm tinikling, you're tinikling. Get down here.
Sue: Okay, so, it's twice on the ground, then once together, then the same again, then the next time, once on the ground, then together, then back to twice, and I dance through it. Got it?
Mike: This is P.E. now? What happened to singling out the weaklings and nailing them with a ball?