Kitty: So, you're pregnant. Okay, well, um... Okay, we'll move the wedding to next month, and then nine months later, we'll tell people the baby came early because you smoked.
Donna: No, I don't wanna move the wedding up. Don't we get a say in this? Red, say something.
Eric: Oh, Donna, he's not gonna help us. Right now he's trying to figure out how to get both of his feet in both of our asses without leaving his chair.
Red: Stop being weird. We'll just have to make the best of this. Besides, with Donna for a mother, there's a decent chance the kid will be good at sports.