Carter Pewterschmidt: Sorry Master Herbert.
Herbert: Sorry? You better get your ass in that closet Pewterschmidt.
Carter Pewterschmidt: Yes sir. (walks to the closet)
Herbert: I am so tired of you.
(Walking towards counter) Yes, I'll take this teddy bear, this ruler, this piece of string, and this cardboard box. (Assembles them into a trap for the cashier.)
Ma'am, I hate to be a nuisance but your son stopped kicking the back of my chair. (Kid starts kicking the back of the chair.) Thank you.
What's going on in my pants? Looks like we got six more weeks of winter.
Boys, Boys. We can settle this like reasonable and sexy teenagers. Whoever can swallow the most Tylenol PM wins.
Herbert: Hey there Chris.
Chris: Hi mister Herbert!
Herbert: Sellin' yer old Hand-me-downs?
Herbert: Ya got anything that ya used to wear in the summer time?
Chris: Just these old shorts.
Herbert: Sweet Jesus.
Peter: All right boys, the best targets are old, rich people. There's one now. Go get him.
(Group of boys surround Herbert)
Herbert: Oh no, there's no police here to help me! I hope you don't find the money strapped to my thigh.
Mort: What kind of birdhouse can you build with popsicles, roofies, and a rubber mallet?
Herbert: It's for a rare African bird called "none your business."
Herbert: Well Jessie I guess we gotta find some other way to spend our evenings.
TV announcer: And now back to ESPN's exclusive coverage of the little league world series.
Herbert: Ohhh JACKPOT!