¡Soy loco por los Cornballs! Wow. We're just blowing through nap time, aren't we?

Sister's my new mother, Mother. And is it just me or is she looking hotter? You're losing blood, aren't you? Gob: Probably, my socks are wet. Do you guys know where I could get one of those gold necklaces with the T on it? That's a cross. Across from where? Mr. Zuckerkorn, you've been warned about touching. Barry: You said spanking. Please refrain from Mayoneggs during this salmonella scare. Either I zip down, or he zips up, and that is a mighty long zipper on Mother's Cher jumpsuit.

If this tableau I recreate, perhaps I can re-snare my mate. Aren't you the sweetest thing, spending time with what's left of your uncle. Speaking of settling, How's Ann? We all need to pick a day to try and make trend. Waiting for the Emmys. BTW did you know won 6 Emmys and was still canceled early by Fox? COME ON. I'm a complete failure. I can't even fake the death of a stripper. If I look like a man who made love to his wife last night – it's because I almost did. Taste the happy, Michael! Taste it!

We have unlimited juice? This party is going to be off the hook. Speaking of settling, How's Ann? You burn down the storage unit? Oh, most definitely.

Smack of ham. What is she doing at a beauty pageant? Is she running the lights or something? Butterscotch! Want a lick? Whoa whoa whoa whoa. Wait. Are you telling me you have a multi-stage trick with hidden identities? I know, I just call her Annabelle cause she's shaped like a… she's the belle of the ball!

Monday morning. COME ON! I am having a love affair with this ice cream sandwich. Yes, Annyong. Your name is Annyong! We all know you're Annyong! Annyong.

Turns out he ended up getting too friendly with the teddy bear. Maybe it was the other George Michael. You know, the singer-songwriter. If this tableau I recreate, perhaps I can re-snare my mate. I'm afraid I'm with Michael on this one. The guy runs a prison, he can have any piece of ass he wants. I guess you can say I'm buy-curious. We need a name. Maybe "Operation Hot Mother." No, let's try to top that. (They never did.)

Mom always taught us to curl up in a ball and remain motionless when confronted. The only thing I found in the fridge was a dead dove in a bag. Gob: You didn't eat that, did you? Yeah, like I'm going to spill coffee all over this $3,000 suit? Come on!

She's always got to wedge herself in the middle of us so that she can control everything. Yeah. Mom's awesome. Interfere? I ought to pull down your pants and spank your ass raw. Michael: I'm sorry, have we met? Obviously this blue part here is the land. Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot… your wife is dead! It feels good to be back in a queen! Go ahead, touch the Cornballer.

No one's called him Baby Buster since high school. She calls it a mayonegg. Dad would stage elaborate situations using a one-armed man to teach us lessons. And that is why Jesus was often referred to as the King of Kings. Queens. The King of Queens. No, she's in it. She's a contestant. It's sorta like an inner beauty pageant. Ah, there it is.