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Peter Griffin: Dad, I'm so sorry I broke all your ribs and busted your spleen and punctured your lung. I... don't know if you can hear me right now, but... I hope you know... I love you, Dad.
Francis Griffin: Peter... come closer. There's something... I need to say to you.
Peter Griffin: I'm here, Dad. What is it?
Francis Griffin: Peter... you're a fat, stinking drunk!
Peter Griffin: Oh, my God, he's dead! He can't be dead! There's gotta be something I can do. Maybe I'll bury him in the Pet Cemetery.
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