Coach Finstock: There are three rules that I live by: never get less than twelve hours sleep; never play cards with a guy who has the same first name as a city; and never get involved with a woman with a tattoo of a dagger on her body. Now you stick to that, and everything else is cream cheese.
Stiles: Do the right thing.
Scott Howard: That's all I wanna do, Stiles. That's all I wanna do.
Coach Finstock: It doesn't matter how you play the game, it's whether you win or lose. And even that doesn't make all that much difference.
Coach Finstock: What is it, gambling? Drugs? You know I'd really like to help you but I'm kind of tapped out this month. The IRS is coming down on me like it's some personal vendetta against Bobby Finstock.
Scott Howard: Styles, I got something to tell you. It's kind of hard, but...
Stiles: Look, are you gonna tell me you're a fag? Because if you're gonna tell me you're a fag, I don't think I can handle it.
Scott Howard: I'm not a fag. I'm... A werewolf.
Harold Howard: Listen son. You're going to be able to do a lot of things the other guys aren't.
Scott Howard: Oh yeah, like chase cars, and bite the mailman?
Harold Howard: I was hoping it would pass you by.
Scott Howard: Well, Dad it didn't pass me by. It landed on my face.
Answer: Because Lewis knew that Scott wasn't being true to himself by letting the Wolf take over his personality. Lewis, like Boof, liked Scott for who he was as a person, not as a werewolf.