If I still had money, I'd buy a Klimpy's just to burn it to the ground.


Okay sure she's cute, I suppose. I mean now that you're making me think about it, uh, she's cute. She's a cutie. Little cutie pie. But I never really noticed.


(to Jessie) Instead of us getting jobs, why don't you do your job and tell everyone we've got jobs?


Jessie: (to photographer) Oh, good. Get one of Michael and me on a date. Thank you.
Michael: A date? This is a date now? I thought this was just business.
Jessie: Can't it be a little bit of both?

Narrator: Meanwhile, Gob was beginning his charity work at a local nursing home.
Gob: I'm going to need a volunteer for my next illusion: The Aztec Tomb.
Woman: A tomb?
Gob: Or box. Box is ... fine.

George Michael: He's my dad. I don't want to disappoint him.
Maeby: You and I are so different. It's like we're not even related.
George Michael: That would be amazing.

Jessie: Buster.
Buster: Right here, ready to go, at your service, get me out there.
Jessie: I want you to stay in. People find you odd and alienating. You make them uneasy. Stay out of the spotlight.

Let me tell you something, sweetie. We may pick on each other, get into little scrapes, call each other names and occasionally steal from each other, but that's because we are family.


Jessie: Hi, George Michael. Proud of yourself?
George Michael: Yeah, actually. I got a bum away from the stand without hurting his feelings. That was pretty sweet.
Jessie: No, I mean about your father. About denying him his chance to be happy?
Maeby: You're into that, too? I'm rubbing off on you, huh?

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