Francine: Isn't that crazy? I thought my boring routine was killing me, but it ended up saving my life. And that fake lesbian kiss, what a great idea!
Linda: Fake? Oh, yeah... of course. Fake.
Steve (after being locked in Hayley's closet): I can't make it on the outside. I'm an institutional man now.
Stan: (while reading "The Erotic Reagan" book) Francine, why are you dressed so nice? Those chicks from The View aren't going to burst in here and give me a TV makeover, are they?
Francine: I'm going to an art gallery. I'm trying to make a good impression on the Ladybugs.
Stan: (sadly) So... no makeover?
Francine: If they like me, it's goodbye, boring routine. Hello, exciting charity events, social functions, and book clubs where we just get drunk and complain about our husbands' lack of interest.
Stan: (still reading) What, now? I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention. (laughs) Not even a little.
Stan: (to Francine about the dog she brought home) What the hell is that?
Francine: This is Fussy. His owner was killed, and he needs a home.
Stan: No way, Francine. We're Smiths, and Smiths have manly dogs. This dog couldn't be any more effeminate, even if it had 20 vaginas. And then it would just be a freakish mutant. Or a beautiful symbol of fertility.
Stan: Forget it, Francine. We already have something girly and annoying in this house. It's called Roger.