[Stan and Klaus are at home, watching The $100,000 Pyramid]
Stan: This is what Roger does? He just sits here and watches this crap all day? What am I missing?
Klaus: An elevated blood-alcohol content.
[later, Stan is watching TV drunk]
Stan: Things you eat! Things that are fruit! Oh, oh, oh, things you peel! Ah, I'm halfway up the pyramid!
Klaus: You're watching The Price Is Right.
Stan: Shut up, Hayley. Oh, oh, oh, things that wear pants!

[Stan and Roger arrive at the Stuffington Academy]
Stan: Here we are, Stuffington Academy. I'm glad we were able to come to an agreement on this. Have a good day at school, "son".
Roger: I'm already having a good day 'cause you called me son. Now give me a kiss. Kiss me on the lips, "Dad". I want that kind of relationship with you. [opens the door] You thought about it I saw it. [closes the door]

[Stan carries a limp Hayley riddled with darts into the living room]
Francine: Oh, God! Is she alright?
Stan: She'll be fine; just breathe her with this pump.
[Francine holds Hayley and begins pumping her lungs]
Stan: The police said, if Hayley goes on another rampage, they'll throw her in jail!
Francine: Jail?! She'll never survive! Tiny cells, the gangs, getting shanked in the cafèteria! [Grunts and pretends to stab someone] The first couple stabs break the skin, then they really get in there! [Grunts with effort] And my baby's all, "Auuggh! You bitch; I'll kill you!" [Sits down quietly and continues pumping Hayley's lungs; Stan glares on]
Stan: ...That was a haunting scenlet, Francine.
Francine: ...And we can't prevent it! Hayley has horrible taste in men; she's gonna get broken up with again!
Stan: That's why, from here on out, she doesn't date anyone I don't sign off on.
Francine: [Still pumping] I don't know Stan. I think what she needs right now is our love and support--
[Hayley suddenly awakens, then grabs Francine and throttles her]
Francine: Shoot her! Shoot her in the face!

[Stan comes in, dressed for the ball game]
Stan: Good morning, kiddo. Sorry again about missing your birthday. What do you say I take you to a ball game?
[holds up tickets]
Steve: Sorry, man. Got other plans.
Stan: What's the problem? I'm trying to bond with him.
Francine: Well, you're too late. Steve's at the age where he doesn't care about going to a ball game with his dad. All he's interested in is girls. He doesn't want ball games, he just wants to ball dames. Huh? Huh?
Stan: Ahh. [laughs] Ah-hah. Ohh.

[Stan gets up from hot tub naked.]
Greg: Take a picture, why don't you?
Terry: I'm just being polite. It'd be rude not to look.

[Stan has gone to God to get a second chance]
God: I'll just cut to the chase, I'm not going to help you.
Stan Smith: What? Then just help my family. You can't let them die.
God: Look, everything happens for a reason.
Stan Smith: What reason could there be?
God: Stan, I'm gonna level with you. If your family is allowed to live, Stanford's tennis team will go 0 and 8 in conference play.
Stan Smith: What?
God: [laughs] I'm just messing with you, the point is mysterious ways, have a little faith, I'm in the details. Now c'mon, you can be triceratops. I know he's your favorite.
[Stan draws a "Heaven Gun", which can kill anything]
Stan Smith: We're out of time. Now, send me back so I can save my family!
God: Not gonna happen.
Stan Smith: You have to!
God: Okay, so you know better than me, is that it? You're all-knowing?
Stan Smith: No. Yes. I don't know.
God: Exactly! You don't know, so stop trying to control everything.
Stan Smith: I don't do that!
God: Stan, you're holding a gun to God's head. I can't think of a metaphor that's better than this.

[Stan has taken General Pequeño shopping for new clothes]
Store Clerk: [holding up his uniform] What do you want to do with this Rhythm Nation outfit?

[Stan is about to punch Roger, and Roger accidentally hits Stan in the crotch. Stan groans and falls on his knees]
Roger: Oh, God, I forgot. That's where you humans keep your boys. I'm so, so sorry. Here, let me help. [punches him in the crotch again] Don't be startin' what you can't finish, bitch.

[Stan is at the dentist]
Dentist: Mr. Smith, you're what we call in the business a Class A grinder. Now, I'm not talking about the sandwich grinder or the organ grinder you may find locked in sweaty coitus with your father one fateful afternoon in Rome. No, you're a Class A grinder, meaning that you grind your teeth so fervently that you need braces.
Stan: Braces? You've got to be kidding!
Dentist: I only wish, Mr. Smith. And I only wish I had never known the sickly sweet scent of my father's love with that filthy fat gypsy. And that I could have mustered something other than "Papa, no!" before that shrieking monkey drove me from the room. But you're a grinder, and you're getting braces.
Stan: But I've already had braces, doctor! I've paid my dues!
[The last line triggers a flashback of his father and the monkey, which apparently traumatizes the Dentist to the point of becoming emotionless.]
Dentist: [grimly] Do we ever pay our dues, Mr. Smith?

[Stan is in the living room and petting Kisses]
Stan: You're soft. Like a detergent bear. Oh, and look. There's a little ear. [scratches his ear] Who likes a scratch? Who likes an ear scratch? Huh? [pets him again and gets out his cell phone] Just gonna snap a pic for Steve. It's for him, not for me. [Kisses yawns] Oh, my god. What a cute little yawn. What a cute little baby. [pets him once more]
[it is now morning as Kisses fetches the frisbee to Steve. Steve kneels down and gives it to Stan]
Stan: You were right, Francine. It feels so good to love a dog again.

[Stan is playing 20 questions with his family]
Stan: I'm thinking of a person.
Steve: Ronald Reagan?
Stan: Damn!
Francine Smith: All I want is to have Dinner once a while and spend some real qualitly time together, but you know what? I'm done, done! Because you are a complete ass family. If somebody ask me in the house, I say 'The Asses' and I might be right!

[Stan is riding a bike and using it as a unicycle]
Roger: Wheels, may I speak with you? Papa Wheely, why don't you go fill out your HR forms. Teddy Bonkers will help you.
Stan: Th-- the teddy bear?
Roger: Teddy bear! His name is Theodore Bonkers. He's not the smartest guy, but he tries harder than anyone I've ever met. I've met Ed Burns.
Steve: Just go with it.
[Stan rides his bike like a unicycle to read the clipboard and gets out a pen]
Roger: What the hell, Wheels?
Steve: He was so excited. I... I couldn't let him down.
Stan: Uh, it says "List previous work experience or draw a picture of a cowboy." I can't draw a cowboy. Is a pirate acceptable?
Roger: Yes.

[Stan is trying to merge into traffic with the lane ahead of him blocked off]
Stan: Excuse me. Trying to merge. Not trying to get ahead of anybody, just merging. [driver honks at him] This isn't a contest, fuck you! Fine, I'll take the shoulder! [he knocks over some traffic cones only to find a construction worker and his truck in the way] Excuse me, trying to merge, I'm just trying to-- fuck you!

[Stan parks next to the window of his house as in drive-thru]
Stan : Hi, I'll take a roast beef to go and a medium Mr. Pibb, no ice. Fantastic.
Francine: Stan, get inside right now and have dinner with your family!
Stan: Well, if that's your attitude, I don't know why you people even have a drive-thru.

[Steve comes downstairs after being injected with an aging serum]
Steve: Why?!
Stan: Looks like the boys in the lab made a mistake...
Steve: You think?! Well, I got my pubic hair back, a whole bunch of them. They're white as frickin' Christmas! It looks like Santa Town down there! And look at my pendulous nads! Every time I walk it's like a game of gnip gnop!