[Peter is sitting in Cleveland's Deli when a mobster offers him do get a new car]
Cleveland: Peter, you don't want to get involved with the mob.
[The mobster goes to Cleveland and start pointing at him]
Mobster: Who are you? Who are you? Who are you? Who are you?
Cleveland: I'm the proprietor of this delicatessen.
Mobster: Butt out, shlomo! All I need is you address. You can write it down on the back of my gun.
Peter: Well, you do have an honest face!
[Showing the mobster's close-up, revealing his gold tooth]
Peter: Ah, Crap! I made a mistake. [He crumples up the gun] You have another gun?

[Peter has it's new car from the mob and is presenting it to Cleveland]
Peter: Hey Cleveland, come here. Check out my on board-computer-navigation-system! Standard:
Navigation-System: Left turn ahead.
Peter: Spanish:
Navigation-System: Va alla esquierda aya.
Peter: Yakov Smirnoff:
Navigation-System: [with a Russian accent] In Soviet Russia, car drives you!

[Peter and Big Fat Paulie standing outside the house and Peter is supposed to tell him that they can't meet again]
Peter: Ahm...Big Fat Paulie, There's something I gotta tell ya. ever stared up the night-sky and wondered if someone might be looking back at ya?
Big Fat Paulie: No, but just in case. [He pulls down his pants and points his ass the sky] Look at this you freakin' aliens!
[The camera pans aside, showing Bonnie who is taking out the trash, looking shocked at Big Fat Paulie's ass]
Peter: Oh, uh...Hi Bonnie, this is my friend Big Fat Paulie...and, uh, this is his big fat ass.

[Inside a pet store that's being used as a front for the mob]
Mobster: I would like a "bunny".
Sales Mobster: What kind of "bunny"? A semi-automatic "bunny" [making a gesture like he's holding rifle] or a hand held "bunny" [making a gesture like he's holding pistol]?
Mobster: Which have a "bunny", you think is better for shooting a guy in the head.
[Peter is coming in]
Peter: Ah, there you are! I've been lookin' all over for ya. Look, a gotta call off the hit on my wife. Where's the Don?
Mobster: The Don? I don't know what your talking about. [He's holding up signs which say: The cops have this place bugged]
Peter: Ahh.. you know the Don. The captain of the mafia.
Mobster: Peter, there is no such thing as the mafia [holding sign: What are you, a moron?]
[Then he hands Peter an envelope and another sign which is read by Peter aloud]
Peter: [reading] The Don's daughter is getting married tomorrow. Here's my invitation. now get the asterisk, percent, ampersand out of here, you S.O.B. What is S.O.B.?

[Lois notices that tomorrow will be the Don's Daughter's wedding]
Lois: Didn't you see The Godfather? The Don can't refuse a favor on the day of his daughter's wedding!
Peter: So?
Lois: So, we can ask him for a favor.
Peter: So?
Lois: So, we ask him to call of the hit.
Peter: So?
Lois: So...Peter, I don't know how to explain it any clearer than that.
Meg: You can go to the wedding and ask him not to kill mom.
Peter: No way! It's to dangerous! I got you into this and I'll get you out of this.
Lois: No Peter, when we got married we agreed to share our lives, good times and bad.
Peter: So?
Lois: So, we'll solve this problem.
Peter: Wait... You mean together?
Lois: Yes, because together we can do anything. Face any foe, overcome any obstacle.
Peter: Yeah, climb any mountain, rent any video, dial any phone, and not just our phone, Lois, other people's phones, decent phones, God-fearing phones, Phon.. Phones that everybody else gave up on, but we know better, 'cause we're a team!
Brian: What the hell are you talking about?

[Lois and Peter are driving in the new car with the on board-computer-navigation-system]
Navigation-system: [with a Russian accent] Turn right at fork in road. In Soviet Russia road forks you!
Peter: Wah.. is this gettin' old.

Peter: D...D...Don't worry, I got it all worked out! We'll move to England! Eh? The worst they got there is, y'know, drive-by...arguments.
British Man: I say, Jeremy, isn't that Reginald B. Stiffworth, the young upstart chap who's been touting the merits of the United European Commonwealth?
Jeremy: Why, yes, I dare say, that's the fellow?
British Man: Oh, let's get him! [The car drives by Reginald and the window rolls down] Oh, Reginald...I disagree!

Peter: Whack off a guy? 'Cause I'm married.

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