Jefferson: I'm going to be a father. Don't you have anything to say to me?
Al: Oh. Sure. It's over. You're a dead man. Today is the first day of the end of your life.
Al: So, we're having a new baby. The gods are on a roll, aren't they? Must've been playing another round of "Can you top this?" One started off, "We'll make him a shoe salesman." Then another said, "We'll give him a red-head." Then another one, probably a cruel, hungover god, said, "But let's have him be a mighty athlete in high school first so his fall will be all the greater."
Kelly: But the gods showed you they loved you when they gave you us.
Al: Yeah, give those gods a Miller. Will someone please tell me, how did this happen?
Peggy: Al, guess what? Marcy is pregnant.
Al: Well congratulations Marcy, now you can finally be fitted for a bra.
Marcy: That's right Al, but I don't need to complain to you what it's like to carry around small things.
Peggy: What should we name the baby?
Al: The Reaper?
Al: Hey, don't kid yourself, I've got plenty of money saved up...
[looks at Peg]
Al: Whoops. Well, it doesn't matter, you're not getting any. I'm gonna get me a Big Boy Socket Wrench Set. Man, it's gonna be great. I'll around this house and tighten more nuts than you did in high school.
Al: Once my kids leave the house, I'll finally be able to do what every man is supposed to. I can watch TV. I can... well, I don't know but it doesn't matter. It's still better than having a screaming, crapping, money-sucking little vampire bobsledding me to the graveyard. God I feel good.
Peggy: Guess what?
Peggy: I'M PREGNANT TOO!
Marcy: How far along are you?
Peggy: Five months.
Al: Five months?
Peggy: Al, didn't you notice that I was getting fat?
Al: Well... yeah.