Dinosaurs

Earl: I wish we'd never gotten involved with that corrupt world of money and power. Of course if they hadn't fired me, I wouldn't be saying any of this. Monica: No Earl, you're right, this is no place for someone like Fran. Earl: Geeze, you and I actually agree on something, now I'm really depressed.

Fran: I'm only doing this for the baby's college fund. Assistant: (holding up two dresses) Mrs. Sinclair, for your awards dinner? Fran: That one. Earl: Frannie, he just fired me! Fran: I realize that, Earl, but it would be irresponsible for me to walk out on the baby's career. I'll need an evening bag to go with that! Assistant: Right. Earl: He's a kid, he doesn't need a career!

Fran: You want to know how I'm going to raise my baby? Well it is not going to be on some movie lot surrounded by a bunch of two faced manipulative cellular phonies. He's going to be raised right here by a family who loves him and knows what's best for him.

Baby: There's my limo, call my agent, I'll be on the coast, I'm a player, gotta love me.

Baby: I don't know why I married you! (hits Earl with a frying pan, the pan breaks) Fran: Oh no! Well, maybe we can glue back together. Earl: No, the last time we did, I couldn't get my hat off. Charlene: Isn't that the 4th pan he's broken this month? Robbie: I count 5. Earl: 6 if you count the wok.

Baby: Saturday morning, got to make pancakes. Fran: You're imitating me, aren't you? Baby: Kids, breakfast is ready, hurry up, getting cold. (pause, bitter tone) Fine! Don't eat! I cook, I clean, when do I get to have a life? Fran: That's enough, sweetheart. Baby: I'm sick and tired of picking up after you kids! Fran: Cut it out. Baby: We spoiled them all!

Robbie: These scripts are ridiculous...a baby's family goes on vacation and leaves him home alone? It's just not possible. Fran: So we'll get a rewrite, script writers are a dime a dozen.