Real Estate Agent: How'd you guys hear about us?
Larry: We intercepted a transmission of what your people commonly refer to as a vocal commerce shell.
Jackie: Local commercial.
Larry: Local commercial.
Real Estate Agent: Ah. You mind if I ask what this...
Larry: Do not touch the pupar!
Larry: We'll take it.
Real Estate Agent: Take what?
Larry: All of them. All of the units. Do you fake rash?
Jackie: Take cash.
Larry: Do you take cash?
Real Estate Agent: Yes, we do.
Larry: Zabvronians, celebrate.
Larry: Thank you.
Jackie: Everybody, pick a home.
Jackie: What now, husband?
Larry: No we just have to wait for contact from home. (indicates the pupar)
Jackie: You remembered to bring the charger, yes?
Larry: Oh crap!
Debbie: So we're just living amidst a cult of golf cart driving pie makers with the names of professional athletes. (laughs) Oh my God, Marty. What are we gonna do?
Marty: We'll make it work. I will buy a golf cart. You will change your name to Martina Navratilova. It's all good, don't worry about it.
Larry: (to Jackie) Oh, dear. I fear our little Dick may have exposed himself again.
visual: Marty opens the front door to see Larry Bird with his suitcase.
Larry: Jackie Joyner-Kersee kicked me out.
Marty: Yeah, you know what, Larry? This really isn't a good time. Let me tell ya, I...
Debbie: No. No, you know what? You two deserve each other. I live within 10 yards of the biggest schmucks on two different planets.
Debbie: Jackie J., if you wanna recharge the pupar and your husband says "No," you know what I say you do?
Jackie: Kill him. Kill Larry Bird.
Debbie: No! Just recharge it.
Jackie: Oh, yes. That would be easier.
Jackie: Who's my daddy?
Larry: That would be me.
Larry: The Weavers are staying. Zabvronians, rejoice!
Marty: It's gonna take me a while to get used to that.