List of voters for the quote

Rita: [clinks her glass] I'd like to make a toast. Bobby, Lori. I just want to say how much it means to have you here with us. [tears up] I don't know if I can't get through this. Lori: [touched] Oh, Mom. Hector: [clinks his glass] Uh, excuse me if I might. I'm sure it means a lot to you, Rita, but with all respect, it means more to us. Rita: Well, Hector, that seems really unlikely because nothing means more to us, 'kay? Rosa: Oh, really? Rita: Yeah. Rosa: Is that so? Rita: Yeah, that's right. [Lori and Bobby look at their relatives worried and the mountain of food melts down.] Hector: Forget the toast. I can say it so much better with music! [starts playing his guitar] We love Bobby and Lori more than... [Lynn Sr. elbows Luna and she dashes off] ...Anyone in the world. Luna: [brings in her axe and starts playing, cutting Hector off] FAMILY! [Her playing is then cut short when her axe gets unplugged, revealing that was Carl's doing and she glares at him] Carl: Oopsie. Lola: [viscously] How DARE YOU! [violently attacks Carl] Frida: Control your children! It is not safe to have Thanksgiving in this house! Rita: Well, if you don’t like it, YOU'RE WELCOME TO LEAVE! Not you, Bobby, you can stay. Frida: That's what you want, isn't it? To steal our precious Roberto away from us?! [hugs Bobby tightly] Lynn Sr.: [hugs Lori as well] Oh, oh, like you haven't been trying to steal Lori from us! Well guess what, BUCKO, it's not gonna happen! Lori: [pleading] Guys, guys, please stop! Louds and Casagrandes: STAY OUT OF THIS!! Rosa: Why would anybody want to spend Thanksgiving here, gnawing on your "dry-bird?" [Lynn Sr. breaks down, sobbing] Rita: [comforting her husband as he sobs] The turgooseon is delicious, the only problem is, you're lumpy gravy! Gravybot: [enters the dining room] Did someone say gravy? [squirts gravy on Rita as she shrieks] Rosa: [bumps Gravybot aside] No. They don't deserve it. [Gravybot smashes into the wall and gravy flies up and splatters on him, he then malfunctions out of control, squirting gravy everywhere, and all over on Frida's painting] Frida: [gasps horrifyingly] My painting!

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