Red: Bob, your decorations are in the dumpster behind the liquor store.
Bob: Thanks, Red. If I had mistletoe, I'd kiss you.
Red: Yeah, well, if I had "mistlefoot," it'd be in your ass. [laughs]
Kitty: You know what I would like for Christmas? No more talk about you putting your foot in other people's rear ends.
Red: Maybe next year, Kitty.

Red: Have you been in bed all day?
Eric: Yeah, I have. I've been reading the Jack Kerouac classic On The Road. See, as I see it, why get out of bed when you can read about people who got out of bed?
Red: You have got to be the laziest non-communist I've ever met. And you are about to read a book that my foot wrote. It's called On The Road To In Your Ass.

Red: I can't believe that is what you idiots have been doing in my basement all these years!
[The background behind Red and Kitty sways as Eric stares at them]
Red: I wish I had 2,000 feet so I could put 500 of them in each of your asses!

Kelso: Oh, Mr. Forman, can I light this off in your house?
Red: Sure and then I'll light my foot off in your ass.
Hyde: And that, my friends, is the last "foot-in-ass" of the decade. Cheers.
Kitty: Michael, it is so good to see you. The girls in the emergency room were just asking about you.
Kelso: You know, it's like I've been gone for so long, I almost forgot you're a hot mom.
Kitty: Oh! [giggles]
Red: You know what else is hot? My foot when it's in your ass.
Hyde: Look at that. He had one more in him.

Red: Steven! What the hell's the matter with you? Stealing my cable!
Hyde: Red, before you blow your stack, why don't you take a look at that car wash girl? She is so sudsy.
Red: You drilled a hole in my floor. My foot is about to drill a hole in your ass!

Red: You know, it occurs to me that since I paid the allowance that bought those records in the first place, that money's mine.
Eric: Well, it occurs to me that possession is 9/10ths of the law.
Red: Keep up with the smart mouth, and my foot will be 9/10ths of the way up your ass.
Hyde: You know, Forman, you should write a book: Things My Father Threatened To Put In My Ass. "Chapter One: His Foot." I'd buy that.

Red: This mall is only big enough for one Santa, Bob.
Bob: Tell you what, you name five reindeer and I'll step down.
Red: I can name five toes that are gonna be in your ass.
Kitty: Oh, for goodness' sake! Why don't we stop calling it Christmas and call it "Assmas"?

Red: You know, it's amazing how you always manage to pull the car right up to the garage, but not actually into it.
Eric: Yup. Takes a keen eye and a sure foot.
Red: How would you like your keen eye to watch my sure foot kick your smart ass?

Red: So, I guess this is the way an immature, engaged, high school dumbass with no car, no job and no money trims the hedges.
Hyde: That was like eight burns in one sentence.
Donna: An octo-burn. Let's get the hell out of here.

Kitty: Okay, let's see, where to start? Well, your father and I were furious when we caught you boys in that smoky basement. The minute you left for the airport, we went down there to do what the Feds call "a sweep."
[flashback:]
Kitty: How dare you boys smoke up my house when you know how hard I work to keep it smelling lemony fresh!
Red: You morons just hung vacancy signs on your asses, and my foot's looking for a room!