There's Always Vanilla

Chris Bradley:
Dad, I just don't want to go to work in your baby food factory. And, I don't want to sell vacuum cleaners. I don't want to sell little toy plastic aircraft carriers. I don't wanna... I don't know what I want.

Mr. Bradley:
Chris, I think I understand what you're talking about. A little bit anyway. But these problems are a little bit like going to Howard Johnsons for some ice cream. You can get all kinds of wild, exotic flavors. But somehow, you always wind up with vanilla.

Chris Bradley:
Oh, Jesus Christ, Dad, I could cry!

Mr. Bradley:
You get what I mean? Now one thing, just once in a while...

Chris Bradley:
[interupting] Now hold on, Dad! What about the poor bastard who gets hung up on butter peacan?

Mr. Bradley:
He's disappointed when he can't get it. There's always vanilla, Chris. Always vanilla.

Chris Bradley:
That's what it all comes down to?

Mr. Bradley:
If you get what I mean.

Mr. Bradley:
Chris... why don't you let me send you back to school? I might as well put my money to good use.

Chris Bradley:
No thanks, Dad, I don't want to hold back my education.

Mr. Bradley:
You better come down out of those clouds, boy... or you're not going to be worth the powder to blow you to hell.

Chris Bradley:
This is my father, he can still cut the mustard!