Fish: Hmm. That looks like a tasty bit of worm there. Chomp.
LS: Grandpa! I've caught a fish.
Grandpa: Hold the pole steady there. I'm getting the fish.
LS: Grama! Look what I caught.
Grandpa: Good stuff.
Grandpa: You've got another one.
LS: Can I hold him, Grandpa?
Fish: My brother warned me that there was something strange about that worm.
LS: Look Grama. This one is a bigger one.
Grandpa: Well done, Little Stuff!
Fish: Someone. Get. Me. Off. The. HOOK!
Granpa: Boy, this one took the bait, hook line and sinker.
LS: Don't hurt him, Grandpa
Fish: OW! That's my tonsil you've got in the pliers.
Fish: That's the last worm I'm going to eat. Ever!
(Grandpa is washing the blood off his finger.)
LS: Is that your blood Grandpa or the fish's?
Grandpa: Mine. Ouch.
Fish: Serves you right! Meany!
Grandpa exhibits his catch on another occasion.
Fish: I want my mommy!