Jerry: Damn it!
Beth: Jerry!
Jerry: Beth!
Summer: Oh my god, my parents are so loud, I want to die.
Rick: Mm, there is no God, Summer. You gotta rip that band-aid off now. You'll thank me later.
Jerry: Okay, with all due respect, Rick— what am I talking about? What respect is due? How is my son supposed to pass his classes if you keep dragging him off for high-concept Sci-Fi rigamarole?
Rick: Listen, Jerry. I-I-I don't want to overstep my bounds or anything. It's your house. It's your world. You're a real Julius Caesar but I'll tell you something—tell you how I feel about school, Jerry. It's a waste of time.  Buncha people running around, bumping into each other. G-guy up front says, "two plus two." The people in the back say, "four." Then the—then the bell rings, and they give you a carton of milk and a piece of paper that says you can go take a dump or something. I mean, it's not a place for smart people, Jerry. And I know that's not a popular opinion, but it's my two cents on the issue.  This was a good breakfast, Beth. You really made the crap out of those eggs. I wish your mother was here to eat them.