[Kevin is seen with a sewing needle on a thread fixing a fur coat. After he is finished he puts on the coat and picks up a fishing rod. He grabs a box of tackle and pulls the insides out and stuffs them in his pocket.]
Kevin’s Father: Caught you red handed!
Kevin: I’m going to catch sharks, don’t pull me out of it.
Kevin’s Father: Sharks?
[Kevin looks at the clock as it changes from 8:59 to 9:00.]
Kevin: It’s 8:60 dad, you’ll make me late, don’t be an asshole.
Kevin’s Father: Even with that coat you’ll turn into a snowman in this weather.
[Kevin holds his hands against the sides of his head.]
Kevin: It’s too much pressure, you treat me like I’m going to break my arm every time I do this.
Kevin’s Father: You’re telling you’re going to catch sharks, where do you get the guts?
Kevin: Just let me go, you’re making my brain spin.
[Kevin grabs his fishing rod and stretches his arms in circles.]
Kevin: I’m not catching a helicopter, so let me get the hell out of here.
[Kevin puts a fisherman’s hat on and storms out of the room. Outside he gets into the passenger seat of a car where some pimply faced teenager is ready to drive away. Kevin throws his gear in the back seat and stretches his legs out in front of him.]
Kevin: Floor it!