George Michael: Yeah, well, I meant... So what are the mice for?

G.O.B.: No they’re just for misdirection.

We’ll see who’s the sleight-of-hand artist is in this family. Okay, now, when I yell “mice”, I want you to open this box, and I’m going to start stuffing some shirts down your pants.

George Michael: Shirts? G.O.B., are we shoplifting?

G.O.B.: (Yelling.) Mice!

Lindsay: Michael, I’m not as bad an influence as you think I am.

Michael: Well, you’re not a great one. You’re a criminal, Lindsay, what kind of message does that send?

Detective Fellows: Bluth, we’re ready to question you now.

Lindsay: That’s what I am, Michael. I’m a shoplifter.

I’ve got a whole bag of clothes I shoplifted.

Narrator: But Tobias was now a guard...

Lindsay screams.

Narrator: ...and a surprisingly cat-like one.

G.O.B.: Wow. Guess we didn’t need the mice.

Narrator: While the rest of the Bluths were in police custody, Lucille was with her brother-in-law.

Oscar: Oh, your tongue is as sharp as your body is still taut.

Lucille: What are you doing? Oscar, this is a children’s soccer game, not Woodstock.

Oscar: Oh, that was another era, huh? The music and the pot... Will you excuse me? I’m need to go to my camper for just a quick sec.

Buster knocks.

Oscar: Open.

Buster: Hey, Uncle.

Oscar: Hey... Buster.

Oscar: No, no... No, no... ow. No, no, no. No, no, no.

Buster: No, no, no! I came here to say something. You do not belong here. My mother’s been spoken for. You know, I may never have played organized sports, but I am a man.

Oscar: Buster...

Buster: And I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.

Buster: Oh...

(Muttering.) No, uncle. I’m a man...

---

Narrator: Michael submitted to the detective’s questions.

Detective Fellows: You haven’t seen any evidence of Ms. Sanchez or where she might have gone?

Michael: I have, uh, no idea. None.

Detective Fellows: Are you willing to take a polygraph to that effect?

Barry: (Speaking in normal volume.) Are you nuts?

Michael: Not without a better lawyer.