Gob: [fixes a drink while waiting for an intervention with Lucille]

Michael: Are you pouring a drink? What are you doing?
Gob: What if she’s mad?
Lindsay: Good point.

Tobias: Perhaps I’ll have a little sip of something…

Michael: Guys, what could she do to us?… do we have anything single malt?

Narrator: [thirty minutes later] And although the intervention didn’t work…

Michael: We think you have a prollen.
Gob: You’re a mesh.

Narrator: …it turned into one of the Bluth family’s better parties.