Rory: Well, this is awkward.

Harry: What, that I named you after a Gilmore Girl?

Rory: No, that that's the least offensive part of my name, now. No small feat, Dad.

Harry: It's like my ol' coach used to say, "If you're gonna hit the mat, hit it hard." Or was it, "take a lickin' and..."

Rory: Again with this?

Harry: Have I mentioned I was a boxer? Perhaps you remember the clever name of my memoirs?

Rory: ...

Harry: Right now, I'm doing a little move I like to call, "Talk to the Golden Glove." Talk to the glove, son!

Rory: How is this going to help us?

Harry: Bobbin' and weavin', son. Bobbin' and weavin'. Watch and learn.

Rory: I'll watch how you cope with your reputation as the country's foremost short-sighted political basher of America's greatest military hero being resurrected in non-stop cable coverage four months before an election.

Harry: Ooh, it hurts. Cut me, Mick! Cut me!

Rory: Seriously, how is this helping us with dismal unemployment and poll numbers in Nevada? Tryin' to be governor over here.

Harry: Glass jaw there, eh?

Rory: To borrow a phrase, this election is lost.

Harry: Talk to the glove!

Rory: I'm leaving.

Harry: Eye of the tiger.

Rory: Sigh.

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