Kitty: Red, you need to have a talk with Bud.
Red: No. Eric's home now. And what goes on between Bud and Steven is between Bud and Steven. He's just not a good dad.
Kitty: Well, you know what? I agree. So, I think we should get in the car pick up Steven and move him back in with us and feed him and- and clothe him and love him.
Red: No. I'm not loving anybody that I'm not legally required to.

Rob: Boy, something about you is so familiar.
Jackie: I get that all the time. See from the right, I look like Gidget and from the left, I look like Elizabeth Taylor. Neat, huh?

Jackie: I am so grossed out. I need a Calgon bath, a facial, some Tater Tots and some Jean Naté.
Donna: This night was the worst.
Jackie: I know. I mean, I am not gonna find love in a bar. All I'm gonna find there are guys who used to French my mom. Just this morning, I was playing with My Pretty Ponies. Look what you've done to me! Look!
Donna: Me? I'm not the one who hooked up with the volunteer fire department.
Jackie: I am never gonna meet anybody and I'm never, ever gonna feel better, ever.
Donna: Jackie, when you're sad, you look exactly like Mary Tyler Moore.
Jackie: Oh, my God! Donna, I do. I am gonna make it after all!

Jackie: Rob, Dean, this is Donna.
Dean: So, what do you girls do?
Donna: That's funny you should ask. We, uh, go to high school!
Dean: Any outside interests?
Donna: Uh-huh. High school guys!

Kitty: I knew something was going on at Bud's. When I went over there, the only thing in the fridge: olives. And poor Fez had ice in his pants.

Kitty: I mean, what kind of parent leaves a bunch of teenagers alone with a keg?
Eric: A fun one?
Red: Hey, Jim Beam, can it.

Eric: Mommy, I don't feel so good.
Kitty: Well, if you're gonna get sick again, why don't you throw up under the tree because Christmas is ruined!

Red: Kitty, why are you smoking?
Kitty: It's my Yuletide cigarette. To celebrate all the children who spend black Christmases with bad parents.
Red: Kitty, put that out.
Kitty: Back off, Grinch.

Red: Uh, sit down, Bud. Kitty, sweetheart why don't you leave us alone for a minute?
Kitty: [to Bud] A boy can't live on olives.

Red: Eric just came back from your place falling-down drunk. He threw up on my shoes. Now, what were you thinking, leaving kids alone with a keg?
Bud: [sighs] Look, Red, I've never really been a dad before. I-I'm just trying to- I don't know... take it easy, be his friend.
Red: Why would you be friends with a 17-year-old? They're idiots. Bud, being a teenager is like being in combat. One minute you're crawling around half blind... the next, you're looking for your own foot. Follow me?
Bud: Not really. I was a conscientious... Canadian.
Red: Well, if you weren't chicken and you did fight, who would you want as your lieutenant, me or you?
Bud: [chuckles] Well, you, 'cause you're mean and scary.
Red: That's right. Steven doesn't need another friend, Bud. Steven needs somebody to ride his ass. He may not like it. He may not thank you for it. He may do impressions of you behind your back. He thinks he's so damn funny. But the point is, he'll know right from wrong because you did your job.