Written by Tom Saunders.
Narrator: Now the story of a wealthy family who lost everything, and the one son who had no choice but to keep them all together. It’s Arrested Development.
Narrator: Michael Bluth and his family were meeting with their new attorney.
Bob Loblaw: Look, this is not the first time I’ve been brought in to replace Barry Zuckerkorn. I think I can do for you everything he did. Plus, skew younger. With juries and so forth.
Bob Loblaw: Any other questions?
Lindsay: Yes. How can you be even cuter in person than you are in your ads?
Man on Television: Are you a CEO, CFO or other executive facing these or similar charges? Why should you go to jail for a crime someone else noticed? You don’t need double-talk.
Bob Loblaw: You need Bob Loblaw.
Man on Television: Bob Loblaw, no habla español.
Michael: Well, we’re not here to talk nonsense to Bob Loblaw. We need to find out if the government has a good case against us. There was a lot of proof that my father was building houses in Iraq.
Bob Loblaw: Well, your father claims he was put up to it by a British syndicate. And you’ve been threatened, isn’t that correct?
Narrator: It was.
Trevor: How would you like someone going after some stupid person in your family? Now back off, you bleeping ponce!
Michael: It’s been a week. Nothing’s happened.
Larry: Yeah, but you’re not the one stuck under house arrest like a sitting duck.
Michael: Oh, yeah, that’s my father. That’s why we had the meeting here— so that he couldn’t interfere.
Larry: Interfere? I ought to pull down your pants and spank your ass raw.
Michael: I’m sorry. Have we met?
Bob Loblaw: Oh, yes, this Larry Mittleman. He’s your father’s surrogate.
Michael: Surrogate?
Larry: That’s right, you dumb bleep.
George, Sr.: I hired this guy to wear a camera in his hat so he could be my eyes and ears while I’m stuck in this penthouse.
Larry: This camera helps me keep tabs on you idiots, while this thing rubs my ankle raw.
George, Sr.: I mean, look at this thing...
Larry: ... I can’t even go in the hallway ...
George, Sr.: ... without hearing that ...
Larry: ... beep, beep, beep.
Bob Loblaw: That’s one of my partners. Excuse me.
Lindsay: I would like to be one of your partners. Do you think he got that— the two meanings?
Michael: He’s running pretty fast. I think he did.
Lindsay: Well, he was flirting earlier, I’ll tell you that.
Lindsay: Just so you know... I’m looking to get divorced. Are you interested?
Bob Loblaw: Yes. (To stenographer.) Let’s call that a half hour.
Lindsay: So you’re not the only one who’s got a date later.
G.O.B.: You’ve got a date?
Michael: Her name’s Rita. She teaches children at a private school and we’re just having lunch.
G.O.B.: Oh, lunch? Well, better bring some dog food. ’Cause all the girls you date are dogs, and... dogs love dog food, right, Pop?
Larry: Shut up, you idiot. I’m trying to watch the game.
G.O.B.: I was trying to make you laugh, Dad. That’s all I ever wanted.
