Debra: That's why I want to go to counseling. I don't think it's that you're just lazy. I think there's a deeper reason behind this, and if we could just figure it out, you and I could be happier.
Ray: Come on, you know me. There's not much deepness. I just... I like to be taken care of.
Debra: You gotta understand, Ray, that that's not a wife. That's a mother.
Ray: Well, maybe that's what I want!
Frank: Holy crap!

Marie: So that's how you both fell? A race around the house, which you often do as a tradition?
Ray: Uh, yeah.
Frank: Stupid, humped-up termite trap!
[Frank falls through the stairs into the basement]
Marie: Oh, my God! Frank, are you all right?
Frank: [o.s.] Holy crap!
Marie: Don't move, I'm coming right down!
Frank: [o.s.] I'm in enough pain!

Robert: I'm telling you, the ground, it shook.
Frank: Why didn't you run?
Robert: I did run, Dad. I don't know if you've ever been in this situation before, but the first thing that comes to mind is run! So I'm running and running, and he's getting closer and closer, and then his horn gets me and my feet are off the ground, like I'm flying. Incredibly painful flying. Then he tosses me aside like a sock, and I'm on the pavement, and he gives me a couple of snorts and lumbers up the ramp and into his trailer.
Debra: Unbelievable! You were gored!
Frank: By a freakin' bull! Holy crap!

Debra: Tell your father we're doing this the right way.
Frank: Hey, me not having to pay anything is the right way. Oh, holy crap! Look at this scratch!
Debra: Okay, see, here's the thing: When a person drives their car into someone's home, I think that person should be sympathetic and apologetic and try to help the person whose home has been demolished try to make it better!
Frank: Hey, I'm trying, but you won't listen.
Debra: I won't listen?!
Marie: I must say, Debra, that tone doesn't help the situation.
Debra: My tone?! My tone! You just drove a car into my house!

Debra: Wait, how do you know Ray?
Natasha: We met at a bar.
Marie: What do you mean? Through Robert?
Natasha: No, no, no. I met Robert through Ray 'cause Ray and I are kind of "dating."
Marie: [gasps]
Frank: Holy crap!
Debra: Wait a minute. What?
Natasha: Is there a problem?
Debra: Um, no, there's no problem. I'm just surprised that my husband has time to date.
Natasha: What? You're his wife? Ray said you were dead!
Marie: [gasps]
Frank: Holy crap!

[As Frank stares at Marie's sculpture in the empty exhibit hall:]
Janitor: If you ask me, it looks like a... [whispers]
Frank: ... Holy crap!

Frank: What the hell is this?
Robert: The remote boat.
Ray: A what?
Robert: A remote boat. Look. See? You put your remote controls right here. Then you can put your TV guide right here. That way you can take it to any chair. Maybe I'll go over here, I'll go over there. Right? And you have a special compartment for your soda.
Frank: Holy crap!

Robert: Well, wait a minute, Mom. How valuable is this Scramisaur card?
Marie: Oh, you can't find 'em in the stores. Believe me, I looked. But if you find one mint condition, no creases, that's $65.
Ray: $65?
Frank: Holy crap! This is the work of the North Koreans.

Frank: What the hell? Who's throwing chicken bones in here? Holy crap.
Ally: Oh, time-out for Grandpa.
Debra: Frank, do you have to curse?
Frank: Do you want it fixed? Bastard chicken bones. I need my frigging needle-nose. [to Ray] Bones in the garbage!

Marie: You want to see something? A $120 receipt from Victoria's Secret.
Frank: Holy crap! What the hell's a bustier?