George Michael: Ann. I know I can’t afford it, but Aunt Lindsay was telling me about this diamond cream...
Michael: George Michael, I’m sure that Egg is a very nice person. I just don’t want you spending all your money...
George Michael: Ann.
Michael: ... getting her all glittered up for Easter, you know?
Michael: More importantly, I want us to do this together— kind of like a father-son sort of thing, you know? And since Pop is no longer president, we get to do it.
George Michael: But I thought G.O.B. was president now.
Michael: Yeah, and I don’t have any problem with that.
Narrator: In fact, since Michael’s father escaped from prison, his brother G.O.B. had been made president, albeit, in name only, which is why Michael was surprised when he got to work the next day.
Michael: Ah, you’re still in my office.
G.O.B.: Gosh, Michael, I am kind of the president.
Michael: And I have no problem with that, but it is just a title, remember? I’m just doing this to appease the stockholders while they scrutinize me for Dad’s crimes.
G.O.B.: Hey, look, Dad may have illegally built some homes in Iraq, which is kind of not cool...
Michael: But that’s why I’ve got a business model that I think is going to restore the image of our company. We’re going to build a second model home.
G.O.B.: That’s great; can I announce it to the board?
Michael: Gee, it is my business model. I mean, if you had a business model, then by all means, you go in there and do...
G.O.B.: Tell you what we’re going to do. Rock-paper-scissors for it.
Michael: No, no, I’m not...
G.O.B.: One, two, three... Paper covers rock.
Michael: Ah, it is a rock, though. Should beat everything.
G.O.B.: There’s not a lot of logic to it. It’s kind of like on a boat with women and children first. (Laughing.) I mean, why should they...?
G.O.B.: Before I forget, I’m buying a company boat.
Narrator: That morning, G.O.B. had gone to a boat show where he saw something he wanted.
Narrator: G.O.B. flirted with her for awhile, and finally asked for her number.
Narrator: Unfortunately, she wasn’t flirting.
Boat Salesman: And here again, please.
G.O.B.: The Seaward.
Michael: You’re not getting a boat.
G.O.B.: One, two, three...
Michael: Not gonna do it.
G.O.B.: Paper covers rock.
Michael: Fine, but rock sinks boat.
Michael: Mom, I-I’m right in the middle of something.