Gob: Are you crazy? I'm a magician. I make my living with my hands. And if I'm going to be staying here-
Lucille: Staying here? What, did that Mexican throw you out?
Gob: She's not "that Mexican," Mom. She's my Mexican. And she's Colombian or something. Anyway, it's over.
Lucille: You've got three days.
Gob: Hey. If I can't find a horny immigrant by then, I don't deserve to stay here. [chuckles]