Meg: Wow, Chris, you look so skinny. I'm, like, totally jealous.
Chris: Thanks, Meg. I'm jealous of your mustache.
Meg: I don't have a I?
Lois: Honey, it's fine. It makes you look distinguished.

Brian: [in acupuncturist's office] Hey doc, you have to keep those two boxes right next to each other? [looks up, spots two boxes that read "Needles" and "Poison tipped Needles"]
Dr. Ling: Why? What do they say?
Brian: I think we're through here.

Peter: There's only one thing to do: learn the language of the fleas, earn their trust, then breed with their women and in time, our differences will be forgotten.
Lois: Call the damn exterminator!

Chris: [on a scale] Dad, this says I gained weight.
Peter: That's impossible; take off your shirt. [Chris lifts his tracksuit to his head; his fat folds wiggle a bit. A leg in red with a grey shoe appears underneath his abdomen] The hell is that? [Peter lifts Chris' belly flap, and Stewie falls onto the floor, rolling to the bath on the head]
Stewie: Ahhhhh...! Ogh-hah... Bovine lummox! Ugh-hah..ha-hah... Oh, God..!

Peter: Well, you might wanna bring some cash with ya, cos, you know, some places don't take credit cards.
[cutaway to Peter holding his credit card to a lemonade stand near the street pavement]
Girl: But, mister, I need real money. I can't take a credit card.
Peter: Oh, I see. Cash only, eh? No paper trail, eh? What are selling? Reefer? Crack? Schmack? Horse? Ex? Shroom? Dust? Meth? In my neighborhood? I don't think so!

[Peter and Chris are at Broderick's liposuction clinic because they want to suck out fat from Chris]
Broderick Brown: This is a very safe procedure, son. You won't feel a thing. I'm like a Green Beret, you know, I sneak inside you and scope around, like it's Vietnam or something, and I'm sneaking through the bush, you know, and I get all the fat like the fat is my buddy stuck behind enemy lines or something, you know, and when I got all my buddies, I sneak out again. I'm very mysterious when I'm inside of you, like the wind. You know.

Peter: You're not fat, Chris, you just come from a long line of husky Griffins. Like your great-great-great uncle, Jabba the Griffin.
Jabba the Griffin: Rasha naba doe-a gola wookie nipple pinchy!

Woman: Hi. I'm on a scavenger hunt, and I need a human foot.
Peter: Well, as a rule, I would say no but, okay, come in. [picks a hacksaw and begin to saw his leg] So-uh, so this is what, it's for, like a school project or som...AAAGH! AAAAGH! AAAGH! AAGH!

[Peter's slim shape debuts to his family]
Lois: How... Why...i...i...
Stewie: My God, it's finally happened. He's became so massive, he's collapsed into himself like a neutron star!

Peter: Knock knock!
Brian: Hey, pal, you can't just walk in here without - holy crap, it's Peter.
Chris: Wow Dad, you're pretty, like a girl.

Cop: All right son, I'm going to need those two hams back.
Chris: Huh? I don't have any hams!
Cop: Lift up your shirt, son.
Chris: I need an adult! I need an adult!
Cop: [feels around under Chris' shirt] You're not a shoplifter you're just a fat kid! Huh! Sorry about that, fatty fat fatty. Hey Dom he's just a fat kid! Aren't you, fatty? You're just a big ol' fat kid. Here's some chocolate, fatso.
Chris: Thanks.

Stewie: Damn you ice cream! Come to my mouth! How dare you disobey me![women and baby come walking down the sidewalk] What are you looking at you... you infantile... stupid? That's right, damn you and such. You can... burn in hell...

Stewie: Well then. Giddy up.

Brian: I like Hillary Clinton; I don't care what anyone says.

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