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Peter: Dad, tell us about World War I, and how America defeated Kaiser Permanente.
Francis Griffin: Lois, when are you gonna get that baby baptized?
Lois: Oh, God, not this again. Francis, why the hell is this always an issue with you?
Francis: Because I love this family, and I don't want my grandson to burn in Hell!
Chris: I love you, Grandpa. Your toenails are the same color as my school bus.
Brian: Do you really think that splashing "magic water" on Stewie will keep him out of Hell?
Francis: Watch that kind of talk, or you'll get your heathen head smacked!
Brian: That's very Christian. Believe what I say, or I'll hurt you.
Francis: Now you're gettin' it!

Lindsay Lohan: [nude] I'm Lindsay Lohan and this is the way a crab walks.
Peter: It sure is! Fonzie be praised!

Peter: That's a better deal than that Aaron Neville megaphone I bought.
[cut to Peter at the Pawtucket Brewery Picnic]
Peter: Okay, I wanna thank you guys for making me activity director for the day. Okay, first of all, can every...[through the megaphone] bah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-dee-hee-hee-hee... [off megaphone] What the hell? The hell's wrong with this thing? Uh, okay, uh, we're about to start the [through the megaphone] sa-a-a-a-a-ack ray-ay-ay-ay-ay-ayce.

[Lois is changing Stewie in the bubble, but leaves him to answer the phone]
Stewie: Hey! Finish the job, idiot! For God's sake there's no ventilation, it smells like Brian Dennehey in here.
Brian: I see London, I see France, I see Stewie's unsightly chapped ass.
Stewie: Hey, gaybo, [points to his eyes] I'm up here, up here.

Lois: [as she holds up a "Church of the Fonz" poster] Peter, you've been posting these all over town. People are gonna think you're crazy.
Peter: Hey, how'd you like to lose a bunch of teeth? Oh, I'm sorry, Lois, that was uncalled for, but that's what you get when you challenge someone's beliefs.

Francis: Stewie Griffin, I baptize you, in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
Peter: And Space Ghost.

Peter: You know, Lois, maybe you're right; maybe I should pick my own religion. The question is: which one?
Vern: [to Peter] I'll tell you what you can pick, a tune out on that piano. [singing as Johnny plays the piano] Fatties in a little jam, dead girl, dead girl, fatties in a lit; oh no, how the whiz bang does the rest of it go? [to Johnny] Quick, make something up!

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