At the dinner table, Lindsay is complaining about the tough-question smackdown. Dad Weir defends the Bush team, asserting, "He's not coming to your high school to be interrogated by a bunch of pimple-faced teenagers," and that she has to be polite. Lindsay sarcastically draws the conclusion, from Dad Weir's Bush defense, that "if you have a zit, you're not entitled to an opinion." Okay, not that I cotton to Dad Weir's argument, but -- straw man, Lindsay. Mom Weir gently says that she just thinks it's nice that Bush is coming at all, since she's "sure he's a very busy man." "Busy doing what?" Lindsay scoffs, "waiting for the President to die so he can take over?" Mom Weir mildly chides Lindsay for her disrespect, and Dad Weir adds, "There's a more important opportunity to be had, here. I was thinking, when you ask your question, you can mention my store." Lindsay opines that "that's sick," and Dad Weir shoots back, "It would be sick if we went out of business. Your only affiliation right now, to any party, is to the Weir party. We need help." Lindsay appeals to Mom Weir to shut Dad up, but Mom backs him: "Those mega-stores can offer discounts your father can't." Dad Weir wheedles, "This is no big deal! All you have to do is say, 'Hi. I'm Lindsay Weir. My father owns A-1 Sporting Goods out on 16 Mile,' and then, 'What's your favourite place to eat in Michigan?'" Lindsay says she can't believe Dad Weir is asking her to do this, but both parents ignore her, and Mom Weir further suggests that Lindsay wear one of the store's new t-shirts, which are conveniently positioned right beside his chair. He holds it up, smiling. Lindsay stares back, catching flies.