Debra: You know what, Ray? It's a private matter. And my parents, unlike yours, don't feel the need to inflict their lives on everybody else.
Ray: Or, maybe they're a little embarrassed, because as it turns out, they're not so perfect.
Debra: Yeah, or maybe they're just trying to work out their problems before their marriage degenerates into a screaming match like your parents. Arguing about how deep a pan is before it's a pot. "If it's three inches, it's a pot! Everybody knows that, Marie!" "If you can't boil an egg in it, it's not a pot, you jackass!"
Ray: Hey, either way, your perfect little Connecticut "Oh, make sure you cut the crust off my cucumber sandwich"-parents are frauds!
Debra: You listen. If my parents lit an orphanage on fire on Christmas Eve, they wouldn't be as bad as your parents!