Mr. Belding: Screech, your mother called and told me about lightning hitting you. Now, I just want to make sure you're doing alright. Tell me--
Screech: 8:30 last night.
Mr. Belding: ...when exactly were you struck by lightning? 8:30?
Mr. Belding: Are there any--
Mr. Belding: ...side effects? Did you say one?
Screech: Yeah, but it's a secret. I'm not supposed to tell anyone that I can see the future.
Mr. Belding: See the future? Screech, that's--
Mr. Belding: Right.