Michael: Come on, face it. You just do all this charity crap just to stroke your ego. You don't even know what the auction's for tonight.
Lindsay: The wetlands.
Michael: To do what with them?
Lindsay: Dry them.
Michael: Save them.
Lindsay: From drying!
George Sr.: I'm under a lot of pressure here. I'm trying to get my newsletter off the ground. I'm trying to decide which gang to align myself with.
Michael: Is it pledge week already?
George Sr.: I've got it down to two. But honestly, I don't even want to choose. I just feel ... I feel like the prettiest girl at the dance.
Michael: I mean, I guess it would just be a guy who you know, grabs bananas and runs. Or, um, a banana that grabs things. I don't know why. Why would a banana grab another banana? I mean, those are the kind of questions I don't want to answer.
Lindsay: Look, I screwed up, ok? I'm lost, and I hate them. I hate the Wetlands. They're stupid and wet, and there are bugs everywhere, and I think I maced a crane, Michael.
G.O.B.: But I'll tell you what. If you want to use my likeness for a Hamburglar-type character, I'll sign off on that. "Mr. Bananagrabber" or something.
Michael: No, no. No more banana grabbing, no more car grabbing.
Lucille: You're the one who charged his own brother for a Bluth frozen banana. I mean, it's one banana, Michael. What could it cost, ten dollars?
Michael: You've never actually set foot in a supermarket, have you?
G.O.B.: Give me a “G.O.B.”
George Michael: G.O.B.!
G.O.B.: No, I didn’t mean for you to yell my name at me. It’s what I call a double-dipped banana with everything on it.
George Michael: Here you go, Uncle G.O.B. I had to use two sticks just to support all the extra chocolate and nuts.
Michael: Hey, hey, hey, whoa. Two sticks and extra chocolate? Is it Mardi Gras?
Lucille: Supposedly, Luz had to take her daughter to the hospital. That’s Lupe, her sister.
Michael: I hope she’s okay.
Lucille: She’s awful. Can barely wash a dish.