Chauncy:
Excuse me, children, please leave this room so that Mr. Reese may speak with his son.
Chase:
Hey, come on, this is my room too. [Chauncy offers him a $50 bill] You know, suddenly, I feel like standing in the hallway. Come along, Zoey. [he and Zoey leave the room]
Zoey:
You're giving me half that money. [Chauncy closes the door after them]
Logan:
[feeling concerned] What's going on?
Malcolm Reese:
This is the bill for my United Express credit card. [holds up a piece of paper]
Logan:
So?
Malcolm Reese:
$327, 000?
Logan:
You said I could use the credit card at PCA whenever I wanted.
Malcolm Reese:
For books, food, maybe a little entertainment.
Logan:
I ask you for permission to borrow your car.
Malcolm Reese:
Unless, It's going back.
Logan:
What?
Malcolm Reese:
I'm cutting you off. [Logan looks shocked] No money, no checkbook, no credit cards.
Logan:
What? Dad, and Chauncy, you have to forgive me!
Chauncy:
from taking your dad's car without asking him?
Logan:
Yes, If you give me a second chance? I promise, I'll ask permission to borrowed my dad's car
Malcolm Reese:
[as Logan faces him] Very Well, Then give me your credit card. [Logan then feebly gives the credit card to him] Chauncy? [Chauncy then takes out a pair of scissors]
Logan:
[now getting frantic] What, what, what? No, no! Wait! No, no! [Malcolm takes the scissors from Chauncy and cuts the credit card in half] [Screaming] [Malcolm then hands the destroyed credit card back to his distressed son, and returns the scissors to Chauncy, before walking over and opening the room's door] Dad!
Malcolm Reese:
Gentlemen, take the plasma screen, the laptop, the stereo, and all that stuff to my son's dorm. [Two movers enter the room, head over to Logan's stereo and start to unplug it]
Logan:
[realizing that his dad is not only taking away his money but also his luxury items as well] No, no! Dad, please! Why? Why the stereo? I need the stereo, I have to listen to music! [The movers pick up and carry away the stereo as Logan continues to plead] Oh, no, please! Put it down! Dad, please! Please! [Malcolm continues to stand firm, ignoring his son's pleas, as the movers return, unplug the plasma screen TV, and carry it out of the room] No! Dad, not the plasma screen! No! Noooooooooooooooooo! [Logan collapses to his knees in distress]
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