The Casagrandes

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!