Jean Weir (Becky Ann Baker): You know, I ran into Mrs. Patten today at Farmer Jack. And she said that she saw you smoking.
Lindsay: Well she’s crazy. Mom, I can’t believe you. You seriously think I would start smoking?
Harold Weir (Joe Flaherty): You know, I had a friend that used to smoke. You know what he’s doing now? He’s dead!
Sam: Hey Dad, guess what? They’re showing Monty Python and the Holy Grail at the Parkway Saturday night. Neal, Bill and I are gonna watch it twice in a row.
Mrs. Weir: Sam, isn’t the Homecoming Dance Saturday night?
Mrs. Weir: Are you going?
Sam: No. Why would I do that?
Mrs. Weir: Well your sister’s going.
Lindsay: No I’m not.
Mrs. Weir: Alright, kids. HIgh school is for learning but it’s also where you should be learning to socialize. That’s what high school dances are all about.
Lindsay: No they’re not. It’s a chance for popular kids to experiment with sex in their cars.
Mrs. Weir: Lindsay!
Mr. Weir: Hey!
Lindsay: I mean, if that’s what you want me to do then I’d be happy to go.
Mr. Weir: You know who used to cut class? Jimi Hendrix. You know what happened to him? He died! Choking on his own vomit.
Lindsay: Daddy, I skipped Latin.
Mr. Weir: Oh. Well I can understand why you wouldn’t want to learn about that. It’s only the building block of our language.
Mrs. Weir: Well I’m just glad your Grandmother wasn’t alive to hear about this.
Mrs. Weir: Hey Lindsay, how’d you like to go buy some new clothes at the mall? Those old jeans are looking pretty ragged.
Lindsay: No thanks, Mom. I like my jeans
Sam: Dad’s the one who could use some pants.
Mr. Weir: Who am I trying to impress? When it’s your house you can wear a tuxedo to breakfast.
Mr. Weir: Honey, the boy’s fourteen. Huh? He can miss a night of walking around, begging like a tramp. Halloween’s for little kids anyway.
Mrs. Weir: Hey Lindsay, you’re still going to hand out candy with me, aren’t you? Remember how much fun we had last year, looking at all the little kids in their costumes?
Lindsay: Yeah, Mom. I told you I was going to.
Mrs. Weir: Good! ‘Cause we’re going to have a really good time this year. I promise.
Mrs. Weir: Sam, I laid your robot costume out on your bed.
Sam: You didn’t rip it, did you?
Mrs. Weir: No. But I wrote “My son’s the cutest boy in the whole world” on the front of it. Lindsay, I got you a costume. Go put it on, Sweetie! I’m gonna put these cookies by the door. We are going to have so much fun!
Sam: I kinda hate when mom gets goofy like that.
Angry Parent: Hey! What’s the big idea scaring my kids?
Mr. Weir: I didn’t mean to, I—
Mrs. Weir: I’m sorry. I made him put this on. Here, give these to your children. They’re homemade.
Angry Parent: Are you crazy? I’ve been lecturing my kids for weeks not to take unwrapped candy. Those cookies could have razorblades or pins in them.
Mrs. Weir: I wouldn’t do that.
Mrs. Weir: The world is such a different place then the one I grew up in. Everything just seems so much meaner these days.
Lindsay: Mom, kids didn’t throw eggs when you were in school?
Mrs. Weir: I don’t know. I guess so. I just know I never did.
Mrs. Weir: Who’s Kim Kelly?
Lindsay: She’s just a friend.
Mrs. Weir: New friend? What’s she like?
Lindsay: I don’t know. She’s just a girl.
Sam: Kim Kelly’s a psycho. She and Karen Scarfolli, they’re violent. They run around the school being evil.
Mrs. Weir: That doesn’t sound very nice.
Mrs. Weir: Sam, slow down. It’s not a race.
Mr. Weir: What’s the problem?
Mrs. Weir: Well, he usually never eats but just look at him.
Mr. Weir: Oh, he’s fine. Look at him! He could use a little meat on his bones.
Mrs. Weir: I’m just worried he might have worms. Sam, do you think you might have worms?
Mrs. Weir: Honey, you can not force these kids to spend time with us.
Mr. Weir: Did you know that in some cultures if children shame you, you’re allowed to have them executed. Well I feel shamed.
Mrs. Weir: Harold.
Mr. Weir: Well I’m not swinging an axe, I just want them to play Pit with me. Is that so horrible?
Mr. Weir: You might find it hard to believe, but I did some stupid things when I was young.
Mrs. Weir: Honey. Tell her about Korea.
Mr. Weir: Korea? Well. One day, I went into Seoul on a weekend pass. And went to this bar. And I had a few too many and… I followed a couple of my buddies to the Red Light District.
Mrs. Weir: Your father’s first time wasn’t special. Ad he’s always regretted it.
Mr. Weir: That was the worst five dollars I ever spent. And I wish I could get that five dollars back.
Lindsay: Come on! Please stop.
Mrs. Weir: What your father’s trying to say is, your virginity is a gift.
Mrs. Weir: How you holdin’ up?
Mrs. Weir: I am so sorry about everything. You know, Lindsay really does care about you. She told me so last night. She just feels overwhelmed right now. She needs her space, you know.
Nick: Is that what she said?
Mrs. Weir: Uh, didn’t— didn’t Lindsay talk to you?
Nick: Yeah, she talked to me.
Mrs. Weir: My heart is racing, Harold. I don’t think we should be doing this.
Mr. Weir: Well look, Jean, we want to know what’s going on in our daughter’s life don’t we? I mean for all we know she could become a junkie or a hooker.
Mrs. Weir: Harold, she is not going to become a hooker.
Mr. Weir: Everybody’s got parents, Jean. Even hookers.
Mr. Weir: I mean what’s it say about Kim Kelly?
Mrs. Weir: Nothing. Just that she thinks Kim Kelly has some….
Mr. Weir: What?
Mrs. Weir: Well, a different word for courage.
Mr. Weir: Huh? Oh! Well does it say anything about drugs? Pot? Acid?
Mrs. Weir: I don’t think so.
Mr. Weir: What does it say?
Mrs. Weir: “I’m sick of living in this claustrophobic suburban world—
Mr. Weir: Oh, get used to it.
Mrs. Weir: “—where everyone is trying to fit in. I feel like I lived in a world of scared robots. Obviously this is terrible, but two of the worst ones are mom and dad.”
Mr. Weir: What? What do that mean?
Mrs. Weir: “They are the most boring, repressed people on the face of the entire earth.”
Mr. Weir: Repressed? I’ll repress her.
Mrs. Weir: They say they love each other but who knows. It’s probably just part of their routine. Anyway, can robots really be in love?” Harold I don’t think we should be reading this.
Mr. Weir: Yeah yeah. Keep reading.
Mrs. Weir: Let’s see. “Their whole life is this monotonous routine. She cooks dinner—practically the same meal every night. He comes home barking at everyone like a fascist dictator, scared his…” Hm.
Mr. Weir: What?
Mrs. Weir: “…scared his penis will fall off if he ever helped clear the table. And she lets him walk all over her. I love them but it’s not the life for me. No thank you.”
Mrs. Weir: Okay, I’ve got something special for us tonight. Ta da!
Mr. Weir: What the hell?
Mrs. Weir: Ah. Harold, they’re Cornish game hens with a plum wine sauce. They’re fantastic.
Mr. Weir: What’d you do, put poison in the bird feeder?
Mrs. Weir: Lindsay, you’ve been studying non-stop. Why don’t you take a little break.
Lindsay: Mom! I can’t. Not if I want to win.
Mrs. Weir: Lindsay, there is more to life than competition.
Lindsay: Not if you want to wipe out Shelley Weaver.
Mrs. Weir: Ah. Is she from Lincoln?
Lindsay: No. She’s on our team.
Mrs. Weir: Hey Lindsay, are you having fun?
Lindsay: Yeah. Of course I am.
Sam: Dad, can I have an Atari for my birthday?
Mr. Weir: An A-what-i?
Mr. Weir: What the heck is that?
Mrs. Weir: That’s one of those expensive video games, isn’t it?
Sam: No. No! It’s not expensive.
Mr. Weir: Well whatever it costs it’s a waste of money. And time. You know, the welfare rolls are full of video game players.
Lindsay: No they’re not.
Mr. Weir: Well they’re gonna be. Trust me.
Mrs. Weir: So I hear something very exciting is happening this week at school.
Cindy: That’s right. Vice President George Herbert Walker Bush is coming to our school to speak at an assembly in the cafeteria.