Bob: Oh, my God! What's that smell?
Jack: That smell, Bob, is our shit. Focker flushed the toilet in the den, so the septic tank is overflowing.
Greg: Jack, I told you. It wasn't me. It was Jinx.
Jack: Focker, I'm not gonna tell you again! Jinx cannot flush the toilet. He's a cat, for chrissakes!
Larry: The animal doesn't even have thumbs, Focker.
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