Gladys and I were just sitting here trying to figure out how to get the bugs out of the Hubble telescope.

I never had $10,000 in my life.

But then again, I guess my whole life has been a lie, hasn't it?

How cavalier, how laissez-faire, how plucky-pluck.

Honey, we'd never be plucky-pluck with you.

Oh, my, you don't have to put up a front for me any longer.

Those days are gone, long forgotten, like my size four underpants.

I now know the hideous, ugly, tragic truth.

What the hell are you talking about?

I found out that I'm adopted.

Are you nuts, boy?

Oh, don't try to deny it, Mr. Peterson.

It's obvious we look nothing alike.

Oh, you gotta be kidding.

For better or worse, we're mirror images.

Oh, yeah, I believe that.

And I guess Scott Thorson was born looking exactly like Liberace.

Look, it's obvious that you've had extensive plastic surgery to make yourself look more like me.

God, Dad, that's fiendish.

Chris, haven't we warned you to always crack a window when you use magic markers?