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[Cleveland enters the kitchen]
Cleveland: Bacon, eggs, cheese... smells like a Denny's in here, but without the old man stink.
Rallo: You got that covered.
Cleveland: No, I smell like a middle-aged man; Propecia, hot wings, and night sweats from our adjustable-rate mortgage. Now, pass those eggs.
Donna: Uh-uh. Remember what Dr. Fist said about your cholesterol?
Cleveland: Yes, he said it was "appalling" and "life-threatening". Uh, pass the eggs.
Donna: This is your breakfast, Cleveland... the same breakfast you've been eating for the past two weeks.
Cleveland: More twigs?
Donna: [to the audience] Fiber Twigs... the cereal that lowers your cholesterol. [Cleveland spoons the cereal-like food and pushes the spoonful into his mouth, then...crunch!]
Cleveland: Ahh! I got a splinter!
Roberta: 'Cause you got a mouthful of wood, like usual.
Cleveland: Huh? Oh. Ah-hahahahaha...
Roberta: Hahahaha, hahaha... [Cleveland pushes her] ahh! Hey!

[Donna washes the dishes, Cleveland gives his plate to her]
Cleveland: [phurp] Oh, Roberta!
Roberta: [off-screen] I'm in my room!
Donna: That's just your breakfast getting down to business. Here's your lunch: Bran muffin, can of beans and for dessert some of that Jamie Lee Curtis yogurt that makes you poop.
Cleveland Jr.: Damn, Daddy! Remember when that cat crawled into the air conditioning duct and died, and we couldn't get it out for sixteen months? That was like a Glade Plug-In compared to this.
Rallo: Ha-ha! Heat rises, I smell nothin'... [Jr. lifts him] Aw, what do you think you're...agg...oh noahh! Put me down, put me dowahhahaha–uhh...

Cleveland: Hm ... [purrp] He... I'm sorry, Terry, but I'm on this new high-fiber diet and I... [Terry throws his yogurt out of the truck] my Hermaphrodite yogurt!
Terry: Look, if you're gonna be my partner, I don't wanna hear one more fart outta you, is that clear?
Cleveland: Yes, sir.
Terry: Good, 'cause I... [Cleveland farts silently before notice] Oh, you bastard!
Cleveland: Ha-ha! [coyly] Sometimes they don't make a noise.
Terry: Oah-hahahah...owuh...ooohhh!
[the cable car heads straight forward to an edge]
Cleveland: Look out! [screams as the car plunges into the lake]
Terry: I can't believe ... my last breath ... is gonna be your ass gas!
Cleveland: I always knew we would die this way. Goodbye, Terry! Ahhhh!
Cleveland/Terry: [unison] Gee, thanks, Mr. Flippers!
Mr. Flippers: Terry, always keep your eyes on the road!
Terry: Will do!
Mr. Flippers: And Cleveland, see a doctor about your ungodly flatulence.
Cleveland: Yes, sir.
Mr. Flippers: Good. See ya later, peoples!
Cleveland/Terry: Bye, Mr. Flippers!

[the Brontosaurus skeleton is being lowered into the Griffin house, with Peter operating the crane]
Peter: Right, little more, little more. I'll have this sucker in the bedroom in no time.
[the skeleton is about to touch the bedroom floor. A beeping is heard, Peter looks at his watch]
Peter: Oh! Time for United States of Tara!
[throws helmet onto lever as he left, the crane loses control and swings skeleton into Cleveland's old house, and Loretta is seen taking a bath this time]
Loretta: No no no no no no! [crash]
[Peter and the others approach Loretta's body]
Peter: Oh, God! Wait, what's that? Oh, look at her gross boobs.

Quagmire: Ugh, what a drive. Thirteen hours is a long way with only one hand on the wheel. Oh!
Cleveland: Ha! Sex.
Quagmire: You wanna see her?
[Quagmire goes next to the coffin, opens it in front of Cleveland]
Cleveland: Why is she wearing a French maid's costume?
Quagmire: 'Cause I wanna nail a dead French maid; giggity-giggity!

Cleveland: I mean, who would you rather be? "Weird Al" Yankovic or Dido?
Donna: Dido!
Cleveland: You and I are very different people, Donna.

[Cleveland is at Loretta's grave, sobbing, and eating Oreos]
Cleveland: I don't understand, Loretta. Why did I cry at your funeral? You did me so wrong; I've moved on! So why am I upset? [as he is about to take another Oreo, one of them drops out of packet] No no no no no no!! Wait! That's it!

[After Tim and Arianna lose to Cleveland and Donna]
Tim: [Crying] You see Arianna, I told you you should have let me take a poop on the stage.
Arianna: Tim, that can't be your answer to everything.

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