Airport Clerk: Aw, that was great.
Quagmire: Thanks. I know you have a choice in airport sex and I appreciate you choosing Quagmire. Please exercise caution when standing up as the contents of your panties may have shifted during coitus. Oh right! I got a plane to catch. Say, which gate is Flight 209?
Airport Clerk: 209? That flight left half and hour ago.
Quagmire: Oh my God! Oh my God! That plane's going down! My friends are on that plane! They're all going to die!
Airport Clerk: What? Oh no!
Quagmire: And that's not the worst part. Here's the condom I said I put on.
Airport Clerk: (gasp)
Quagmire: Hahaha, aren't I just the worst?
Joe: Boy, this sounds like more trouble than a moose on the interstate.
(Cutaway to a guy driving on the interstate, he sees a moose holding a sign that says "Will do moose stuff for money")
Moose: Hey, can ya help me out? I'm trying to get a couple of bucks for something to eat.
Man: What's "Moose Stuff"?
Moose: Eh, whatever you want it to be. I could have sex with ya, or I could just stand over there and drink from the lake, and everything in between.
Man: Get in.
(Chris and Quagmire are on the couch with a calculator, Chris is typing in numbers)
Quagmire: Okay, now add twenty.
Chris: Okay.
Quagmire: Now multiply it by four.
Chris: Okay.
Quagmire: Now what do ya got?
Chris: Eight thousand and eight.
Quagmire: And what does eight thousand eight look like on a calculator?
Chris: Oh, Boob!
Quagmire: Boob! Yeah! Alright, alright, alright, Boob!
Chris: What if we had two calculators and we put em next to each other?
Quagmire: Huh! Yes, yes, yes, find one, yes.
Quagmire: (Over the plane's intercom) Good afternoon ladies and gentleman, this is your captain Glenn Quagmire, uhhhhhhh we're lookin' bout a four and a half hour flight time today, uhhhhhhh got clear skies, good visibility. The temperature in Atlanta is sixty-four degrees, uhhhhhhhhhh the flight is gonna be a little longer than we've expected, uh we've got some very strong head winds, giggity. Uh, flight attendants, please prepare for takeoff.
(After Meg finishes typing on laptop.)
Chris: Meg, you are so full of crap. You're like those people who sit in Starbucks and publicly write on their laptops. (Scene with two guys typing on their laptops in Starbucks.)
Guy #2: Hey, getting some writing done there buddy?
Guy #1: Yeah, setting up in public so everybody can watch me type my big screenplay.
Guy #2: Me too. All real writers need to be seen writing otherwise what's the point, right?
Guy #1: You should totally write that down!
Guy #2: Okay, will you watch me?
Lois: (Walks into bedroom and hears Peter laugh.) Peter? I know you're in here.
Peter: Yes I am Lois... (High pitched) But where?
Lois: Peter, if you shock me, I swear to God I'm leaving you.
Peter: You have to find me first Lois. (High pitched) Where could I be?
Lois: Well there's a Quonset hut that I've never seen in this room before. I got a figure you're in there.
Peter: How do you know, Lois? I could be in that New York Style magazine kiosk.
Lois: Peter, this all looks very expensive.
Peter: Yes, you might say it was... shockingly expensive.
Lois: I'm going to try the Quonset hut. (Peter comes from behind and shocks her.)
Peter: (Laughs) I was in the bathroom. The hut and the kiosk? Decoys, Lois, decoys! (Laughs and runs)
(Peter enters the bedroom on his horse)
Peter: Ugh, its been a long day Lois, a long day.
(Peter gets into bed, with the horse)
Lois: Peter what the hell, you cant bring that horse into our bed!
Peter: Lois, I can not believe you would ban the horse from our bed. Hes a graceful, majestic creature, who is a part of this family and only wants you to love and respect--The horse may have pooped in the bed.
Tom Tucker: Well, the election results are pouring in, and it looks like it's gonna be a tight one. Which reminds me Diane, when was the last time you--ah, forget it.
Peter: Let's just all be grateful things are completely back to normal again.
(Roger from American Dad walks on screen)
Roger: Who ate all the Pecan Sandies?
