1987
Young Gus: We’re starting a secet club.
Henry: The Burn Down the House Club?
Young Gus: The Gus and Shawn Club.
Young Shawn: It’s actually the Shawn and Gus Club.
Henry: You know, a club needs regulations, bylaws. You guys got any rules?
Young Gus: Yes. No girls.
Young Shawn: Everybody has to be under twelve. No old guys.
Young Gus: And they have to have a love of correct grammar.
Young Shawn: That’s not a rule!
Young Gus: You said we could have one special rule. That’s mine.
Young Shawn: And that’s the best rule you could think of?
Young Gus: I think you mean, “that’s the best rule of which you could think.”
Young Shawn: I’m not being in a club with this.
Young Gus: Fine! I don’t need you and your misplaced prepositions!
Present Day
Gus: Dude. Do you realize where we are right now? That’s the Monarch Lodge
Gus: You can’t just walk into the Monarch Club. They’re a clandestine society. They have a secret handshake.
Shawn doing the handshake: Hold it. Fold it. Skim it. Crouching Tiger. Zookeeper’s Boy. Hairdresser on Fire. Girlfriend in a Coma. Slap it on a biscuit.
Gus: Do you realize what this means?
Shawn: Yes. It means my dad, Mr. Integrity, is nothing more than a lying liar from Liarsburg.
Henry: You drive me a little crazy, Shawn. The idea of spending an entire weekend with you—
Shawn: I drive you crazy?
Henry: And your cat? Got a little too familar with the arm rest of my sofa. There.
Henry: This is not the time for your shenanigans.
Shawn: It was a single shenanigan. Technically more of a hijink. Pet killer.
Henry: I am not a pet killer, Shawn. Chairman Meow is living very happily at a retirement home in Ojai.