Fringe, Season 1

Walter:
[to Philip] You know... I had a fruit cocktail once in Atlantic City. Mind you I'm not the fruit cocktail sorta guy.

Philip:
Excuse me. [walks over to Peter] We need to discuss your father.

Peter:
Is it the fruit cocktail thing again?

Philip:
Mm-hm.

Peter:
Yeah, he's been doing that recently. He gets obsessed about certain foods. It's weird.

Philip:
We need him to focus.

Peter:
To focus? Mr. Broyles, two-thirds of the time, my father's not even lucid. And in those rare and unpredictable moments of clarity, he rambles on about the foods and beverages that he missed while he was incarcerated in a mental institution for the better part of the last two decades. To say that he's not focused... is to say that he's a biped. Which is to say, you're absolutely right, he's not focused and also it's not going to change any time soon. I'm his son. I'm not a puppeteer. I don't have a remote control. There's no master switch I can flick and turn him into the man I wish had raised me. Or even somebody I don't have to babysit everyday. [pause] I guess I've had that on my mind for awhile.

Philip:
Apparently.