Airport Rep: Name, sir?
Robert Loggia: Robert Loggia.
Airport Rep: Could you spell it out for me?
Robert Loggia: Certainly. Robert Loggia. R as in Robert Loggia. O as in "Oh my god, it's Robert Loggia." B as in "By God! It's Robert Loggia." E as in "Everybody loves Robert Loggia." R as in Robert Loggia. T as in "Tim, look over there! It's Robert Loggia." Space. L as in "Look! It's Robert Loggia."
Peter Griffin: All I know is, that somewhere in great land of Ireland, there is a fat bastard just like me.
Lois Griffin: So, Meg, your birthday's coming up, huh? You excited about turningggggg... eh?
Peter Griffin: Uh, Meg, uh, I got sixteen candles for your birthday cake. How does that sound?
Meg Griffin: That's not right.
Peter Griffin: So, less... more... too many... uh, not enough...?
Meg Griffin: You stupid son of a bitch! You don't even know how old I am!
Lois Griffin: Meg, that kind of language is not appropriate for a girl your age... or is it?
Meg Griffin: I'm gonna be seventeen, you jerks!
Peter Griffin: She's the jerk.
Meg Griffin: I can't believe Grandpa's dead.
Lois Griffin: Well, he did kinda treat us like crap, but yes, it is a tragedy.
Brian Griffin: It is a tragedy.
Lois Griffin: Excuse us.
Brian Griffin: Yeah, we'll be right back.
[Lois and Brian go out on the lawn where they jump for joy. They high-five each other, then Brian grabs Lois' breasts and wags his tail. Lois smacks him into the garbage cans, then they go back inside]
Lois Griffin: We're all gonna miss him.
Brian Griffin: Tragic.
Stewie Griffin: [pulls up in front of the hospital] Push the bitch out!
Asian Santa Claus: [talking fast] What do you want? What do you want for Christmas?
Stewie Griffin: Um. I was thinking maybe one of those old timey...
Asian Santa Claus: Too late! Take too long! Sad Christmas!
[throws Stewie off his lap]
Asian Santa Claus: What do you want?
Asian Kid: Fire Truck!
Asian Santa Claus: What color?
Asian Kid: Red!
Asian Santa Claus: Next!
[throws Asian kid off his lap, Asian kid goes aghh for a second while being thrown]
[Peter sits on the couch, lighting a bong]
Brian Griffin: Peter, what are you doing?
Peter Griffin: Crack.
Brian Griffin: What the...
[beeping noise cuts off his last word]
Peter Griffin: Hey, at least I'm not drinking, Brian.
Brian Griffin: Yeah, this isn't exactly a good substitute. Where'd you get crack?
Peter Griffin: From Black's
Brian Griffin: What?
Peter Griffin: Yeah, right behind Black's Hardware store. There's a white guy selling it
Peter Griffin: Dad, I'm so sorry I broke all your ribs and busted your spleen and punctured your lung. I-I don't know if you can hear me right now, but... I hope you know... I love you, Dad.
Francis Griffin: Peter... come closer. There's something... I need to say to you.
Peter Griffin: I'm here, Dad. What is it?
Francis Griffin: Peter... you're a fat, stinking drunk!
Peter Griffin: Oh, my God, he's dead! He can't be dead! There's gotta be something I can do. Maybe I'll bury him in the Pet Cemetery.
[cutaway to Peter burying Francis in the Pet Cemetery. As he finishes, Francis jumps out of the ground screaming]
Peter Griffin: [screams and wacks Francis with the shovel until he stops] Okay, I'll bury him in a regular cemetery.
Brian Griffin: Boy, it's amazing, isn't it? You get two fathers, and neither one of them wants anything to do with you.
Peter Griffin: [about Mickey] There's got to be some way I can make him see that I am worthy of being his son. But the only way I could ever impress him is if I was a fat, stinking drunk.
Francis Griffin: Peter! You are a fat stinking drunk!
Peter Griffin: [looks up] What?
Francis Griffin: [standing as a ghost from Star Wars along with Yoda and Obi-Wan Kenobi] You're a fat, stinking drunk!
Obiwan Kenobi: Yes, from what he's told us, that's right on the money.
Yoda: Challenge him you must.
Anikin Skywalker: [walks over as a ghost] And I'm Hayden Christensen.
Stewie Griffin: Come on, discipline me! Make me wear panties, rub dirt in my eye, violate me with a wine bottle- my God, I really do have problems, don't I?
Mickey: As we say in Ireland: "Let's drink until the alcohol in our systems destroys our livers and kills us."
Peter: Oh, he doesn't smell like Irish Spring and he never taught me anything, but still I slap my chest and sing of My Drunken Irish Dad. Oh, his face looks like a railroad map and he never shuts his freakin' trap...
Mickey: But all the ladies catch the clap from your Drunken Irish Dad.
Peter: Ask a Hennessey, Tennessey, Morrison, Shaughnessy, Reidon and Rooney, they'll tell you the same. McNulty, Mulrooney, and Carter and Clooney all feel the same mixture of pride and of shame.
Mickey: Finnegan, Hannigan, Kelly and Flanagan look to the ground when their dad passes by. Cafferty, Rafferty Joyce and O'Lafferty fight for his honor and then start to cry!
Mickey: And we don't tan well either.
All: ...from a Drunken Irish Dad!