Woody: Hey, there's a kitty-cat in here.
Carla: A guy gave 'em to me on the way in this morning. You know my kids have been giving me a lot of crap about not having any pets, so I figure Max here ought to shut 'em up for a while.
Woody: Well, what do you call the little one?
Carla: What little one? You know, all that wheat's making you hallucinate. Oh, great, she's having babies! There's another one! You're a farmboy. What are you supposed to do to stop this?
Woody: Well, it's too late to go to the drugstore.
Carla: I swear, I swear, this cat was not pregnant when I got it. The minute it becomes a Tortelli, it starts dropping 'em like...