That's my son, you pothead! The CIA should've just Googled for his hideout, evidently.

I run a pretty tight ship around here. With a pool table. Pound is tic-tac-toe right? That was Tom Cruise, the actor. Lucille: They said he was some kind of scientist. That's so you can videotape it when they put you in a naked pyramid and point to your Charlie Browns. Uncle Gob, was Aunt Lindsay ever pregnant? Yeah, sure, dozens of times.

The only thing more terrifying than the escaped lunatic's hook was his twisted call… Hey campers! So did you see the new Poof? His name's Gary and we don't need anymore lawsuits. I'll sacrifice anything for my children. They want to break his legs. It's a good thing he's already got that little scooter. I shall hide behind the couch. (Guy's a pro.) I will be a bigger and hairier mole than the one on your inner left thigh!

So did you see the new Poof? His name's Gary and we don't need anymore lawsuits. I need a fake passport, preferably to France…I like the way they think. Even though sooooo many people in this office are begging for it. I was set up. By the Brits. A group of British builders operating outside the O.C.

She wanted to look 48. I nearly airbrushed her into oblivion. Ended up checking "albino" on the form. You might wanna lean away from that fire since you're soaked in alcohol. We need a name. Maybe 'Operation Hot Mother'.

She's a contestant. It's sorta like an inner beauty pageant. Ah, there it is. I know what an erection feels like, Michael. No, it's the opposite. It's like my heart is getting hard. And don't make the water too hot. The scabs come right off. Oh, yeah, the $4,000 suit is holding the elevator for a guy who doesn't make that in 3 months. Come on!

No, she's in it. She's a contestant. It's sorta like an inner beauty pageant. Ah, there it is. Oh, like when they say "poofter" to mean "tourist", yes. What about macaroni – let me finish – salad? I've used one adjective to describe myself. What is it? First I blow him, then I poke him. It's one banana Michael, what could it cost, ten dollars? Make love in your *own* hand, Mother!

Either I zip down, or he zips up, and that is a mighty long zipper on Mother's Cher jumpsuit. Oh, yes, there absolutely will be a margarita made in my mouth. If I wanted something your thumb touched, I'd eat the inside of your ear. I see you've wasted no time in filling my seat hole. If this tableau I recreate, perhaps I can re-snare my mate. It's, like, Hey, you want to go down to the whirlpool? Yeah, I don't have a husband. I call it Swing City.

Heyyyyyy Uncle Father Oscar. Absolutely. And we're going to be here every day. I don't care if it takes from now till the end of Shrimpfest. She calls it a mayonegg. What a fun, sexy time for you.

Teamocil. And here you are coming out of your mother's third base! If you didn't have adult onset diabetes, I wouldn't mind giving you a little sugar. Perhaps an attic shall I seek. Whenever she'd change clothes, she'd make me wait on the balcony until zip-up, and yet anything goes at bath time. I didn't mean who… I meant… her? Buster, what are you doing with mother's rape-horn?