[Rachel and Simon have just learned that Grampa is not related to them. Each thought he was related to the other. They have no idea where he came from]
Rachel: What are we going to do with him? I really thought he was your Grampa.
Simon: Well, I thought he was yours.
Grampa: Is that a new dress, Timmy?
Rachel: I'm not wearing a dress.
Grampa: Not you. I meant Timmy.
Rachel: Simon doesn't wear dresses.
Grampa: Too bad. Back in the day I always looked forward to the girls wearing dresses when the weather got warm.
Rachel: Who do you think wears dresses?
Rachel: [whispering] Let's just bash his head in with a shovel and bury him in Mrs. Kravitz's garden.
Simon: Fine by me. I'll go get one.
Grampa: Oh, I've pooped by britches.
Rachel: That's okay. We'll get you some clean ones.
Grampa: Thanks Timmy.
Simon: [carrying a shovel] Let's get it over with.
Grampa: Oh, I like the garden.
Rachel: Well, we're so glad to hear that. [Grabs the shovel and hits him in the head]
Simon: That ought ta do it.
Rachel: Let's get the wheel barrow. We'll wheel him out.
Grampa: Can we have ice cream?
Rachel: You're not dead?
Grampa: No, but I think I pooped myself again, Timmy.
Simon: [Takes the shovel and smacks Grampa] That should do it.
Grampa: I don't want vanilla.
Simon: Why can't he die?
Grampa: Back in the war the government gave us ice cream. We didn't poop ourselves back then.