The Butterfly Castle
Michael, you are not quite the ladies man I had pictured. Hopefully, we will remedy that when we are in the spa spreading body chocolate on each other. I need a fake passport, preferably to France…I like the way they think. God knows they're squinters. It's sort of like going from prime rib to… I don't know… weird brother of prime rib. Are you sure this isn't her sister? Mrs Veal: What a lovely thing to say. Michael: That's an awful thing to say.
Okay, Lindsay, are you forgetting that I was a professional twice over - an analyst and a therapist. The world's first analrapist. Say goodbye to THESE! Excuse me, do these effectively hide my thunder?
Get rid of the Seaward. Lucille: I'll leave when I'm good and ready. No, no, it's pronounced a-nal-ra-pist. Come on, this is a Bluth family celebration. It's no place for children. Turn this skiff around!
Stop licking my hand, you horse's ass. Sure, let the little fruit do it. HUZZAH! Please refrain from discussing or engaging in any sort of interoffice [bleep] or [bleep] or finger[bleep] or [bleep]sting or [bleep] or even [bleep]. And although the intervention didn't work, it turned into one of the Bluth family's better parties. Could it be love? I know what an erection feels like, Michael. No, it's the opposite… like my heart is getting hard. I just dont want him to point out my cracker ass in front of Ann. Are you at all concerned about an uprising? You go buy a tape recorder and record yourself for a whole day. I think you'll be surprised at some of your phrasing.