American Dad!

Steve: It's funny. I always wanted a pool filled with cherry jello. Well, I guess I got it. I got a lot of things after becoming famous: women, respect, that joke about the ten inch pianist. I can't believe I never got that one before.

(Stan is at the front door of Steve's mansion) Steve: What are you doing here? Stan: I want you to come home. Steve: Yeah, well, you can forget it! You used me and you lied to me! Stan: Guilty as charged. But I'm gonna make good on it all, starting with that centerfold I promised you. (Pulls a human under a sheet towards him from off the frame) Here she is, centerfold, Jenat Jefftifstan. (Pulls the sheet off to reveal a wrinkled, old lady in swimwear) Steve: That's not her, she's ancient! Stan: Well, sure, that magazine I showed you was from 1957. But she still loves to party!

Steve: (discovering a gumball machine smashed by Roger) Bravo! That was the gumball machine Henry Ford gave to Hitler.

Roger: (To Steve) Sorry, pal, you're going to jail where they're going to take your cherry... jello... away... in the lunch line... after you're raped... in the shower.

Roger: (Reading US Weekly) Stars, they're just like us. Ooh! Here's Tara Reid buying a gallon of vodka and a case of morning-after pills. I drink gallons of vodka. I should be a star.

Stan: Good God, Francine, your roots are showing! Francine: I know. My hairdresser lost his touch when he decided he was straight. Apparently, it is a choice. Stan: Yes, it is. Francine: Absolutely. Anyway, the only good hairdresser left is Mr. Beauregard, but it's impossible to get an appointment unless you know somebody. Klaus: But you do know somebody, Francine. You know Roger. Oh, wait, he's just a nobody. Roger: (Gasps) Don't... cry in front of the fish. (Runs off crying)

Steve: Anyway, Dad, my English teacher, Mr. Durbin, is your biggest fan. Can I get your autograph for him? Stan: Sure. "To Mr. Durbin, keep on rockin'. Yours in Christ." Hayley: Dad, that's Steve's report card.

Stan: I look around me and I see it isn't so! Steve: What? Stan: I mean, why'd you cheat? Steve: I'm sorry. It's just, creative writing is hard. I can't do it. Stan: "Can't"? We don't live in "Ameri-can't," Steve. We live in America. No, no, no, no, wait. We live in "Ameri-can." No, wait, that's not right, wait. We are "Ameri-can." Where was I going with this? Steve: Um, I said, "Creative writing is hard." Stan: Oh, yeah, yeah. Perseverance, Steve, it's all about perseverance. And if I Ameri-can't teach you about it, I have a friend who Ameri-will. Well, that sounded good. Had a bumpy start there, but I think I pulled it together.

Stan: Steve, meet Patriot Pigeon. Steve: You wrote a children's book? Stan: No, Steve, I wrote 3,012 children's books, each chronicling the adventures of Patriot Pigeon, who battles America's enemies by dropping red, white, and blue turds of justice.

Francine: Mr. Beauregard, I would love for you to put expelled uterine matter in my hair. Mr. Beauregard: Hmm. If I were you, I'd take your hair behind a shed and shoot it.

Francine: Anything for me? Stan: (Looking through mail) Just a postcard that says your hair looks like crap. Hey, it's from me.

Roger: A book about me? (Gasps) I'm gonna be a star! Steve, you're the best! Oh, my God, Stan, how upset are you? Seriously, on a scale from one to pissed. Oh, who gives a flying fig? I'm a star! (Laughs)

Stan: Ugh, Francine, when I look at your hair, I doubt I could eat the amount I want to vomit.

Bill Publisherman: Well, then, what you need is to get Steve on Cap'n Monty's Book Cavalcade, the hottest children's book show in Langley Falls. Stan: Great, put him on. Bill Publisherman: I'd love to, but to get on, he needs to have the number one children's book in town. And to get that, he'll need a hook. Stan: Right. We'll cut off one of his hands. People love the disfigured... and fear them. Bill Publisherman: No, a hook, an angle, a gimmick. Hmm. Is the boy gay? Stan: Why? Could that be a hook? Bill Publisherman: Hook?

Roger: Is it true? Were there really seven people at the book signing? Stan: (Sighs) Yes. Roger: Oh, my God, it's happening for me. I'm almost a star. Oh, there's my cell phone! Oh, my God, it's Johnny Depp. ("Answering" cell phone) Depp-ster, what's shakin'? Klaus: That's not a cell phone. That's a bar of soap you painted black. Roger: Yeah, hang on, J.D. Watch it, Klaus, or I'm gonna cram this bad boy 20,000 leagues up your butt.

Roger: (Enters Steve's room) You bastard! Roger the clumsy alien? Roger who sips his silly juice and goes on delusional rants? And it's not silly juice. It's necessary juice. (Throws book on floor) Watch your back. (Walks into door) Ouch. Oh, that ouchies. Ouchies. Ouch. (Leaves) Hayley: (Enters Steve's room) You bastard! Thanks to you, Dad spent all my college money buying you Dr. Seuss' first typewriter. (Leaves) Francine: (Enters Steve's room) You bastard! That's what I said to my old, ugly hairdo.

Steve: Now do I get to meet that centerfold? Stan: No, I just said that to motivate you so you'd carry me to the top. Steve: Dad, I can't believe you lied to me. Stan: Really? Huh. That's... that's kinda my whole bit.

Stan: Stop this nonsense, Steve. Kevin: Dude, his name is "S" now. And S does what S wants. Steve: And S wants to C.L.T.D.F.H.C. Snot: "Cut loose the dead weight from his coattails." Barry: There should be a "W" in there. Steve: Get in the trunk, Barry.