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Stan: Cleaning up after Roger again? Did he have another ticker-tape parade because the deli finally named a sandwich after him?
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Roger: Hey, F-Bombs.
Francine: Roger, I see you're busy, but I was thinking it's time I teach you how to do some stuff on your own. The laundry, cleaning, making your own iced tea..
Roger: ...No!
Francine: We can make a game of it.
Roger: I'm going to be Colton Lansington, a renegade space cop who struggles to keep his bipolar disorder in check.
Francine: Okay, Colton, you just had a busy space day and now you'd like to cool down with some intergalactic iced tea. Now, you take two scoops of powder...
Roger: Colton doesn't take orders from nobody! I'm off my meds! (storms out of the room)
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(Francine has been pestering Stan for alone time; he has just reminded her that they will never be truly alone at home because Roger requires constant monitoring. To demonstrate, an explosion is heard upstairs)
Roger: I had to get out of there. It really smelled. I threw up in the shower, and it didn't go down the drain, and now the tub's overflowing, and I want some iced tea, and I know you know I want it now! Come on, come on, come on.