Eric: Oh, hey. What took you guys so long at the heart doctor's? Oh, let me guess. You had to call in a specialist just to find Dad's tiny heart.
Red: You know, we could call in a specialist to find my foot in your ass.
Hyde: "We're going to need an ass-foot-ologist, stat."

Fez: No, I cannot be in the same room with him. You and I are through. Now good day.
Kelso: But, Fez... [Fez is silent]
Jackie: Fez? He said, "But, Fez."
Fez: Oh, I heard him.
Donna: Well, now you're supposed to say... "I said good day."
Kelso: Yeah, and then we all know that you're really mad, but eventually, you'll get over it.
Fez: Oh, you'd like that. "Dance, monkey, dance." Well, Kelso, this monkey don't dance no more.
Donna: But, Fez...
Fez: I said good day! [groans]

Red: You think my problem is my own son? My son is a fine young man.
Eric: Wow, Dad, you don't have...
Red: Shut up, dumbass. You know less about my family than you do about football! Which isn't saying much, since you dropped every pass that came near you! And let me tell you something else. When a real Packer hurts his leg, he stuffs his kneecap back in and keeps on running!
Eric: That's what this little mushroom would have done.

Jackie: Why is Red so stressed? [gasps] It's a mystery. Just like when Nancy Drew had to figure out why the man in the clock tower was so mean to his cat.
Kelso: What did she find out?
Jackie: Oh, I don't know, books are too long.

Kitty: Stuart, Stuart. This is Bob, the stress causer. Bob broke Red's chainsaw. Bob, meet Stuart. Stuart, blame Bob.
Stuart Sutcliffe: Red, how do you feel about Bob? Does he cause you stress?
Red: Not really. Bob's just kind of goofy. Like a cartoon. Like living next to Elmer Fudd.
Bob: That may be the nicest thing you've ever said about me. You wascal.

Kitty: Your father's blood pressure is still high, and the doctor can't figure out why.
Red: So he wants to send some moron over to find the source of my stress. And I said, "The source of my stress is when you quacks try to pad my medical bill." And then the machine went "beep", and the appointment was over.
Kitty: You know, I don't know what you're so worried about. They're just going to blame me. Shrinks love to blame the wife. What do they know? They're barely doctors. A stuffed animal and a box of tissues could do their job.

Stuart Sutcliffe: Look, there's one last exercise I want to try. Role-playing. All right, go. All right. Now, you're going to be Eric. Eric, you're going to be your father. Mr. Forman, you can start.
Red: Well... [gestures with hands] I'm just a skinny, smart-mouthed kid who always has something to say about everything.
Eric: And I wish I was an octopus so I could put eight feet in eight different asses! [cackles]
Red: Star Wars, Star Wars, Star Wars!
Eric: Dead commies, dead commies, dead commies!

Red: Ah, Kitty, uh, what's for dinner?
Kitty: Well, the camera's off, so I'm having a margarita with salt. You two are on your own.

Stuart Sutcliffe: Well, I hope nobody minds if I record today's session.
Red: Yeah, this is your lucky day, son. They say the camera adds 15 pounds.
Eric: Really? I heard it also adds a full head of hair.

Kitty: [Southern belle accent] Well, what a lovely day here in the household of the Formans. I can't say there's a place I'd rather be than with these kinds of people in this kind of place.
Red: What are you, Scarlett O'Hara, now?
Kitty: [normal voice] I am being soft and gracious. Now, clam it!