Debbie: All this talk of death is making me cremate.
Klaus: I'm running out of fish schtick.
Debbie: You lost me at lasagna.
Steve: I never said lasagna.
Debbie: Well, I was thinking about it.
Hayley: Plus-size women drive our economy with their purchases of Garfield books and Haagen-Dazs.
Steve: Here she comes.
Stan: (looks at Debbie through the window) Where's Debbie? Behind that fat girl?
Steve: No, Dad, that's...
Stan: Is the fat girl going to lead us to Debbie?
Steve: No, that's...
Stan: She's carrying a purse. She must have a map to Debbie in her purse.
Steve: Dad, that's Debbie.
Stan: To the panic room!
Stan: That's one impressive man. Handsome, fit, the whole package.
Roger: That's great, Stan. Can we stop staring at your reflection in the TV and turn it on now?
Steve: Good news, everyone. I'm in love.
Francine: Tell us about her, sweetie.
Steve: Her name is Debbie. She smells like a glue stick, she shares my interest in bug zappers, and she likes reading old books by guys who died of syphilis.
Francine: Syphilis? Ooh, la, la.
Francine (about Debbie): We can't wait to meet her, Steve.
Stan: You can say that again. It'll be nice to have a pretty girl around the house for a change. (Francine glares at him) I-I meant a pretty, younger girl. (Hayley glares at him) Don't get mad at me. It's called make-up.
Zack: Hey, bro, I couldn't help noticing you're kind of fat and pathetic.
Stan: And you're kind of perfect and scrumptious. What's your point?
Steve: How ya doing, Dad?
Stan: Fat and healthy, son. In a few weeks, I'll be a regular Debbie. (Steve starts crying) Steve, what's wrong? What about the word "regular" set you off? Here, have a Little Debbie. (Steve continues crying) What, now it's the word "little"? You know what? Why don't I put on some Debbie Gibson and we can talk about it?
Hayley: We were just freezing our...
Hayley: It's a woman thing, keeps them crisp, great in the summer.
Francine: More refreshing than a popsicle!
Stan: Hayley, are you wearing makeup? You look like a whore.