Ray: Look, Dad, you weren't supposed to hear the eulogy.
Frank: Yeah, I guess I screwed you up by not being dead.
Ray: Come on, I was just... I was writing it for myself, all right? I don't want you to die.
Frank: Look, I don't care what your screwed-up reason for writing a funeral speech was. I hated that bunny! And by the way, you never cleaned the cage. It was dirty. You kids "Daddy, buy me a bunny. We'll take care of it." I was lied to.
Ray: I was eight.
Frank: And already a liar.
Ray: All right, Dad, I'm sorry.
Frank: I had to pet that bunny. Every night.
Ray: Every night?
Frank: Every night! The damn bunny needed some attention. And that's the thanks I get.

Frank: Who told you this?
Stan: My wife.
Frank: How the hell does she know anything about this?
Garvin: Your wife. She knows how to get the word out. It's like tom-toms. Frank pet a bunny. Frank pet a bunny.
Frank: You're telling people this?
Marie: Frank, you should be proud of it. Finally you're loveable.
Frank: Would you stop?! I am not loveable, all right?! I am not sweet! I fought in Korea! I am no bunny-petter!

Debra: Frank, it's a nice memory. He thinks it's sweet.
Frank: I don't give a rat's tail what he thinks. It never happened.
Ray: All right, Dad, what are you making a big deal for?
Frank: Because you make things up.
Ray: I don't think so.
Debra: Frank, Ray's trying to share something with you.
Frank: Share a lie?
Debra: No, no. About you. When he saw you pet that bunny-
Frank: I didn't pet a bunny.