American Dad!

Stan: What if we told you the potato salad contained an extra ingredient? An unholy ingredient? Karl Rove: Unholy, you say? (With his back to the camera he pulls open his robes) Smiths: Aaaahhh! Karl Rove: (Closes robes) Any questions? Steve: Where does your food go?

Haley: Wait, I know you. You're the amoral puppet master behind George W. Bush! Karl Rove: Why thank you.

Francine: Did it get colder? (Karl Rove shows up) Stan: Francine, meet Karl Rove! (Wolf howling sounds) Karl Rove: Let's get started. (Walks by Klaus' fishbowl and the water freezes)

Father Donovan: (To parishioners, at church) Wow. Sunday again, huh? Boy, that pissed by, didn't it? Least tomorrow's TGIM. (Laughs, everyone stares) What? You got something better?! Stan: Father, may I say a few words? Father Donovan: (Sighs) Whatever. (Mumbles, as he leaves) Man, I remember when I used to be able to smoke in here.

Mexican Doctor: Did you say "alien baby"? Stan: No. I said, "Doctor's corpse found in desert." Mexican Doctor: Oh, right. Right.

Hayley: Steve, are you sure you want to have this child? Steve: Yeah, I... I guess so. Roger, what do you say? You ready, partner? Roger: Oh, yeah. Fatherhood. Jazzed. It's not like I wanted to do anything with my life, like learn to surf or go to Jerusalem. Steve: Are you... are you drunk? Roger: Get used to it! (Slams door)

Stan: I'm sorry, but I have to resign as deacon. (Everyone gasps) Whiny Parishioner: But whhhhhhhy?

Francine: Okay, if it means that much to you, I guess we can bring chips and dip to the wake. Stan: Chips and dip? Oh, I tell you what, Francine. Why don't you just take this broom here and I'll bend over and grab my ankles, you lube up the handle real good and just sweep me out the door! 'Cause that's what'll happen to my chances at Deacon if the best we can do is chips and dip.

Steve: What am I gonna do?! Hayley: Whatever you want. You know, a pregnant boy still has the right to choose. Stan: Not in this house he doesn't... we're Conservatives and the one way we don't like to kill things is that way.

Steve: (After holding hands with Betsy) I touched her hand... her hand touched her boob. By the transitive property, I got some boob! Algebra's awesome!

Stan: Damn my tiny, girlish bladder!

Francine: Stan, quit spying on the neighbors. (Stan looking at the neighbors through binoculars) Stan: Today's the day, Francine. Today I will finally beat that smug bastard Chuck White to church. Look at him zipping up his fly like he owns the place. Well, today I get the shady parking spot. All right, Chuck still needs a tie. He's a double Windsor man, so we have a good two minutes to... (Gasps) Good God, a clip-on! Go, go, go! Francine: Wait! My bra! Stan: No time. Just keep your arms crossed and Jesus won't see 'em!

(Stan driving his SUV, pigeon crashes into windshield) Francine: Stan, you just killed a pigeon. Stan: No, I didn't. (Turns on windshield wipers, pigeon slides off the window) Francine: Stan, slow down. Is beating Chuck White so important to you that you'd put your family's lives at risk? Stan: Absolutely. Francine: You just ran through a crosswalk! Stan: No, I didn't. (Mr. Perkins is on the windshield) Francine: Hello, Mr. Perkins. (Stan turns on wipers to try to get him off, but fails) Francine: Spray him. Spray him a little. That'll loosen him up. (Stan sprays water on him, turns on wipers again, he slides off) Mr. Perkins: (On the ground) Thank you.

Stan: (About the Deacon position) Huh, Deacon. Long hours, no pay, whiny churchgoers... you'd have to be an idiot to volunteer for that position. Chuck: I volunteer to be Deacon! Stan: Me, too!

Francine: (About the pot-luck wake) I could make potato salad. Stan: Potato salad? Not exactly adventurous, but it gets the job done. That reminds me, we should have sex tonight.

(After being tricked into eating the potato salad) Roger: You set me up, Klaus! Why would you do something so awful? Klaus: I'm German. It's what we do.

Stan: Chuck... Kristy. Nice house. Chuck: Smith, you live in a house. This is a manor... so you better mind yours. (Chuck & Kristy laugh, Stan tries pulling out his gun from his jacket) Francine: No.

Francine: Uh... Stan, honey, we've run out of potato salad. Stan: Oh my God! No! (Everyone leaves) Stan: Wait! Wait! I've... I've got a stick of gum. Who likes Big Red? Huh? Who likes Big Red? Huh? (Karl Rove slaps Stan) Karl Rove: What is wrong with you? Look, we cannot run out of potato salad again or we will lose on Sunday. (Bat brings him an ancient scroll) Damn! My car's been towed.

(After being forced to eat a bunch of stuff by Stan) Roger: Why, Klaus? Why? Klaus: Ja. Still German.

(Roger hooked up to a contraption forcing him to eat) Francine: Stan, look what we're doing to Roger. We've got to stop this. Stan: We can't stop now. The election is tomorrow. Roger's fine. Roger: Kill... me...

(In a camper) Francine: Stan, what... what's going on? Stan: You were right, Francine. I've let this ridiculous rivalry cloud my judgment. This family comes first. That's why I rented this camper to drive us all down to Mexico so Steve can have his baby. Francine: Mexico? Stan: That's right, Mexico. Or, as I like to call it, God's blind spot.