Rowley: Is that cheese?
Chirag: Stop! Good God, man! You almost got the Cheese Touch.
Greg: The what?
Chirag: The Cheese Touch. Nobody knows when or how, but one day that cheese mysteriously appeared on the blacktop. Nobody knew who it belonged to. Nobody touched it. Nobody threw it away. And so there it sat, growing more foul and powerful by the day. Then one day, a kid named Darren Walsh made the biggest mistake of his life.
Girl: Darren touched the cheese!
Darren Walsh: No, I didn't! I just looked at it! Really!
Chirag: Darren had the Cheese Touch! It was worse than nuclear cooties. He became an outcast. The only way to get rid of the Cheese Touch was by passing it on to someone else. And so began the Cheese Touch Frenzy. Friend turning on friend. Brother turning on sister. It was madness. Until a German exchange student named Dieter Muller took it away.
Boy: Dieter has the Cheese Touch!
Dieter Muller: Ze Cheese Touch? Vat is it? Vat does it mean, ze Cheese Touch
Chirag: Sadly for Dieter, that fact was lost in translation.
Dieter Muller: Nooooooooooooooo...!
Chirag: Thankfully, he moved back to Dusseldorf and took the Cheese Touch with him. And so the cheese sits, patiently waiting for its next victim.
Chirag: This is a terrible place.
Rowley: No doors?
Greg: None. I'm not pooping until I'm in high school.
Greg: The cafeteria, possibly the cruellest place on Earth. But I was about to make some kid's day by sitting next to him.
Boy: That seat's saved.
Greg: For who?
Boy: It's saved. That one's saved, too.
Girl: So not happening.
Girl: Ah, ah, ah.
Rowley: Where are we supposed to eat?
Fregley: I guess this is where all the cool guys hang out.
Greg: Fregley must have bumped his head when he was little, like, really hard. Okay, okay, so my first day could have gone better, but at least I wasn't humiliated.
Rowley: Hey, Greg! You want to come over and play?
Quentin: What did he just say to you?
Greg: Oh...I think my ride's here.
Quentin: Hey, guys. So this guy says to that guy, "You wanna come over and play?"
Rowley: Yeah! Do you guys wanna play with us?
Greg: See? This is the problem. Right now I have to take abuse from these morons. But in 20 years, Quentin here will be working for me.
Big Quentin: Greg, please don't fire me. I really need my measly, pathetic job scooping your dog's poop.
Big Greg: Whatever. I'll think about it. No, no, no. Vanilla on the bottom and chocolate on the top! I can't eat this!
Greg: "Play," Rowley? "Play"? I've told you, like, a billion times that guys our age say "hang out," not "play."
Greg: Seriously, if you're not gonna listen to me, just tell me, 'cause if you pull another stunt like that, we'll be stuck on the cafeteria floor for the rest of middle school.
Rowley: I found half a Snickers bar down there.
Greg: I can't be the guy who eats off his lap in the cafeteria. I should be at the top of the food chain by now. Something's got to change, fast.
Rowley: My mom told me to just be myself and people would like me.
Greg: That would be good advice if you were somebody else.
Rodrick: Hey, little brother. Was your first day as crappy as I said it would be?
Greg: No. Not at all. You were wrong. It was actually better than I...
Rodrick: You didn't listen to me, did you? I told you not to talk, look or go anywhere, and what happened?
Rowley: He had to eat his lunch on the floor.
Rodrick: Perfect. And if nobody wants you sitting at their table, you think they want Chummy Buttons over here? I was right. You're not even gonna make it out of there alive. The only chance you have of making the yearbook is when they dedicate it to your memory.