Sam Preparing for College/Bumblebee and Jazz vs Kitchen Bots

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Ron: Come on, let's go. All hands on deck. Frankie, Mojo out. Come on kiddo, were on a tight schedule.

Sam: Slow down Dad. Why are you in such a hurry to get rid of me? Huh. Did you rent the room well?

Ron: No I got other ideas for your room.

Michael: And it rhymes with "home theatre". (Chuckles)

Judy: (Sniffing) (Crying) Look what I found? It's your little baby booties.

Sam: Oh Ma.

Judy: My little baby booty boy. You can't go.

Michael: Good thing Mikaela isn't here.

Sam: Oh Mom.

Michael: Is that even necessary?

Sam: You see this Dad, this is how you're supposed to react when the fruit of your loins goes out in the cruel world to fend for himself. Ok?

Ron: Yeah, my heart bleeds for you pal. College. Bummer.

Michael: Yeah, I still have my car collection to tidy up.

Judy: You have to come home. Every. Holiday. Not just big ones. You have to come home for Halloween.

Sam: Well I can't come home for Halloween.

Judy: Then we'll come to you.

Michael: You're not coming.

Ron: No, were not going anywhere.

Judy: We'll be in costumes.

Sam: You can't do that.

Ron: Would you let the kid breathe for crying out loud? Come on. Go pack. There's no way you're packed for a whole month-long trip.

Michael: Come on, let's go. Chop. Chop. Let's go.

Ron: March young lady. (Slaps Judy in the bottom.)

Sam: Oh.

Michael: Really Dad.

Judy: I love it when you call me young lady, you dirty old man.

Sam: Dad Dad Dad, whoa.

Ron: What?

Michael: We're watching what you're doing Dad, it's not a rap video.

Ron: It is like a coach thing.

Michael: Oh my God. (Facepalms)

Sam: That was a really creepy move just now Dad.

Ron: Look, your mother, your brother and I are really proud of you, you're the first Witwicky to ever go to college.

Judy: Now I'm crying again! This sucks!!!

Sam: You're gonna be okay Ma.

Ron: You know it is gonna be, um, you know hard for her to accept uh, that her boy is all grown up. Going out to handle the world on his own.

Michael: You okay bud?

Ron: Yeah. Mojo, no dominating Frankie. Get the hell off the couch, you filthy beasts!

Michael: Ew.

Sam: What are you talking about Dad?

Ron: There is gonna be a lot of women there.

Michael: Well, he's a woman type of guy.

Ron: Look Mikaela's the greatest but gotta give each other room to grow. You're no different from any couple your age.

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