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Charlie: So, junior high eh? Boy, that brings back some memories. Doesn't it, Alan?
Alan: Can we please not go down that road?
Jake: What happened?
Alan: Nothing, it's just that kids in junior high can be a little judgmental.
Berta: Especially if you're knocked-up.
Alan: Thank you, Berta.
Berta: Of course on the upside, pregnant chicks didn't have to go to gym.
Charlie: Did the guys who got 'em pregnant get any consideration... nooo. Not even a hall pass.

Alan: You'll see things will go great for you. You just have to remember a few things.
Jake: Like what?
Alan: Well, er, always keep your lunch money in your shoe, but have some spare change in your pocket.
Jake: How come?
Alan: Decoy money. They won't stop hitting you til they get something.
Jake: Who are "they"?
Alan: The big kids holding you by the ankles and plunging your head into the toilet.
Jake: Plunging my head into the toilet?!
Charlie: Don't freak the kid out, Alan. It's not so much "plunging" as "dipping."

Alan: Oh, I almost forgot, I got you a little present: your very own cellphone.
Jake: Ah, cool!
Alan: Now, the important thing to remember is that this is not a toy. It's to use in emergencies only.
Jake: "Emergenies?" What emergencies?
Charlie: (whispering) "Dad, come get me. I'm stuffed in my locker and my underwear is wet."
Alan: That only happened once.

Alan: Smile.
Jake: About what?
Alan: I need a current picture in case you go missing.
Charlie: Alan, you're being ridiculous, they never find those kids.

Face it, Alan. When the good Lord was handing out courage, you were crouched in a locker, peein' on your gym socks.


Alan [about Jake]: I hope he didn't wander under the bleachers during lunch hour.
Charlie: Ah, he's smarter than that.
Alan: Smart? Charlie, he only got out of sixth grade 'cause he couldn't fit in the desks anymore.

Alan: How do they feel?
Jake: OK, but they're ugly. They look like old people shoes.
Alan: They're not old people shoes. They're walking shoes.
Charlie: Right, for people who've been walking over eighty-five years.

Charlie: Hey, Berta, how have you been washing my underwear?
Berta: Like I do everything else around here: with a song on my lips and love in my heart.
Charlie: I'm serious. I got a rash in my, you know, private area.
Berta: Private? You get any more traffic down there, you're gonna have to open a Starbucks.

Alan: You sure it's just a rash?
Charlie: What else could it be?
Alan: Uh, well, since we are talking about your private area, it could be anything from Ebola to mad cow disease.
Charlie: You get Ebola from monkeys, right?
Alan: Right.
Charlie: It's just a rash.

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