Pope: Hi. I don't know who to complain to about this, but I keep getting XVIII's mail. Yeah, no, no, he's not here anymore. This is XXIV. Yeah. No, I don't need Newsweek. No, I don't need National Geographic. Yeah...I...No, I'll...I'll hang onto Boy's Life.

[Peter sees Roger when they greet the new neighbors, the Smiths]

Peter: What the hell kind of dog is that?

[Roger indicates Meg]

Roger: I was going to ask you the same thing.

[Hank Hill wakes up from a nightmare of his wife, Lois, sleeping with Peter]

Hank Hill: Ahh, dammit. I always wake up before I find out if they can understand the baby.

Peter: Lift up the shades, there's a man on the wing!

(Joe lifts up the shades) It's me. I'm the man on the wing.

Joe: Peter, how the hell did you get out there?! Are you crazy?!

Chris: Dad, why can't we all go?

Peter: Because, somebody's gotta stay here and round up all these rattlesnakes.

[Peter dumps a bag of rattlesnakes on the carpet, the family screams]

Peter: Bye!

Quagmire: I don't know if I can pull out of this, Giggity.

Lois: Who threw out my sequin top?

Stewie: You're 43, accept it!

Stewie (weakly): You... look... fat.

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