Lucille: He's just jealous that I have a man back in my life. And guess what else is back?
Michael: My breakfast?
Lucille: My friskiness. Mama horny, Michael.
Michael: No, it's my breakfast.

Buster: Mother, have you seen my rubber hand?
Lucille: It's in the dishwasher. Your father and I were using it for something.
Buster: Oh for God's sake! Can't you keep my hand to yourself?

Michael: I'm amazed Dad hasn't strangled himself with his belt yet.
Lucille: Oh, we're into all kinds of freaky stuff.
Michael: Why do I eat breakfast before I come here?

(Driving to the cabin to escape Buster's snoring, Lucille discovers he's asleep in the back seat)
Lucille: Ooh, come on!
Buster: Mother?
Lucille: What the hell are you doing back there?
Buster: I decided to sleep in the car so my snoring wouldn't bother you. And I left that recording of my snoring so you wouldn't know I'm gone.
Lucille: We're halfway to the cabin, I'm gonna drop you by this light.

Michael: Maybe you can bring a date to the cabin.
Lucille: I don't want anybody to go inside that musty claptrap.
Michael: ... Oh, the cabin!

Michael: You seem more villainous than usual, Mom. Are you sober?
Lucille: Michael, it's 8 AM!
Michael: So, it's not that.

Lucille: Apparently, mood altering medication leads to street drugs. That's what this very handsome young doctor said on The Today Show.
Michael: That was Tom Cruise, the actor.
Lucille: They said he was some kind of scientist.

Lucille: I just went off my post-partum depression medication.
Michael: You're still taking that? You had Buster thirty-two years ago.
Lucille: And that's how long I've been depressed about it.

Michael: Go ahead and tell Gob that I'll be telling the cops that it was him in the truck so he'll be joining me here. I've got a nice hard cot with his name on it.
Lucille: You'd do that to your own brother?
Michael: I said "cot".

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