Francine: Steve! Come with me if you want to live... at home this summer!
Roger: In the words of every sitcom character in the early 90s, and everyone in the Midwest through the rest of the 90's..."Don't go there."
Steve: [smells plant] Ahh, basil and snail poison; the sweet smell of summer.
Klaus: Hey, you should plant some of those, uh... I don't know what you call them here... Hitler melons.
Stan: Good news, I found a camp that still has an opening.
Steve: Dad, I don't want to go to camp. It's hot and there's always something crawling in your sleeping bag, like a spider or a counselor. Just let me tend to my posies.
Francine: Stan, he doesn't want to go to camp.
Stan: But I spent my summers at camp, and I had the time of my life. I want him to have that same experience, and besides, gardening's gay.
Francine: I'll have you know, James Coburn had a garden.
Stan: I'm sick of your lies about Coburn!
Stan: Steve, camp is an amazing place. You get to swim in the lake, drink bug juice, ring the bell if you win the Camp-A-Lympics. Oh, and then there's "camp love." It's such an intense experience, like winning the Grammy for "Best R&B Performance, Duo, or Group."
Steve: Dad, for the last time, you were not in Boyz II Men.
Stan: [sings] Whatever.
Francine: Just so we're clear, you will not return home from Africa without my son.
Hayley: I'm going with you. If I can just hold a refugee's hand and look them in the eye, they'll know someone cares.
Stan: [laughs] Okay, Bono, settle down.
Steve: Dad, they just kidnapped Makeva!
Stan: All right, I understand "kidnapped." But what is "Makeva"? Ugh, I bet that little girl they stole could have told me.
Steve: Dad, you have to help me get Makeva back.
Stan: But I don't know what to do.
Steve: [slaps Stan] "I don't know what to do." You can act like a man!
Stan: There's no hitting at Camp Refoogee.
Steve: Look, the Bawango rebels ruined our camp and took one of your campers. Are you going to let them get away with that?
[The refugees gather around Stan]
Stan: Don't move, Steve. Just give them your credit card and we'll cancel it when we get home.
Steve: Dad, these are your campers. They're rallying around you.
Stan: Oh, yes, right, right. Thanks, fellas.
Hayley: [returns looking fatter] Thank God we're going home. I think I gained the African 20. Seriously, I threw away more food than I ate.
Stan: I hate the last day of camp. You better write me when you get home, H-Rod.
Hot Rod: We don't have homes. The rebels destroyed everything.
Stan: Oh, right. I guess I don't like thinking about your horrible situation. [to the camera] Just like the rest of the world. Shame on you!
Stan: Hey, champ. Camp love can be tough, huh?
Steve: How would you know? You got your camp love.
Stan: Actually, I didn't.
Stan: I loved Amy Bennett, but the part I didn't tell you was she didn't love me back. She broke my heart.
Steve: Wow... I guess I ended up having your camp experience after all.
Stan: Yeah, I guess you did. Hey, Steve, you know the good thing about first love? It's the first of many.
Steve: So, how'd you get over Amy?
Stan: Well, son, as you grow older, you'll find that the hurt fades away... [screams] Why, Amy?! Why don't you love me?! [starts crying]
Steve: It's going to be okay, Dad.
Stan: Don't you dare patronize me! Amy! Amy! I don't want to live!
Stan: Hi there. Stan Smith, American. You haven't seen my son Steve, have you?
Hot Rod: Ah, yes, Steve. The white kid, right?
Stan: Jeez, why's it always gotta be a racial thing with you blacks?
Francine: Do you think maybe the baby couldn't have drowned in the pool?
Roger: No. You left the gate open and she sank like a stone. You have to live with that for the rest of your life.