"Chance! OH. MY. GOD."

"I have great news!"

"NO! She's 100% guilty. BUT...MY BOYFRIEND IS NINETEEN!

"I KNOW...HARVARD SENT ME A LETTER. OH MY GOD."

"No! I'm terrified."

"...Kinda??? BOBBY I'M SCARED."

"But...I have to wait...three weeks. WHAT THE HELL BRO?"

"IT'S MY LETTER."

"You childish son of a bitch."

"HORSE."

"....FINE! You can open up the letter when you get here."

"Was that even english?"

"What?"

"What did you say?"

"Oh...WHERE DO I SIGN?"

"Stop it!"

"Make it fucking stop. I feel stupid."

"Not true! Just because our child doesn't have the smarts doesn't mean she got it from her mother!"

"Would you like a son?"

"Her name is going to be Ana."

"No. A-N-A."

"...Can you?"

"YOU HAVE AIDS?! IS THAT WHAT YOU'RE TRYING TO TELL ME?"

"NOT IF YOU HAVE HERPES."

"I thought you were perfect, Bobby. Now, we can't have a child. We'll be childless. Because you have -"

"...So what do you have?"

"So...you're herpe free?"

"And we can have children?"

"And we're naming our daughter Ana?"

"FORGET YOU. WE'RE NAMING OUR DAUGHTER ANA."

"SHE'S GOING TO LOOK SO BEAUTIFUL AHHH."

"NO. DO YOU KNOW HOW HYPE YOU SHOULD BE? PEOPLE WILL READ ABOUT US ONE DAY AND THINK WE ARE COUPLE GOALS. THEY WILL BE HAPPY TO SEE A MIXTURE OF DONALD AND BOBBY IN A GIRL'S BODY."

"BECAUSE THE DAY WILL COME WHEN WE HAVE THEM and I will be a great mother."

"You don't believe in me?! I got this, bro. Watch me kill it."

"THE BATTLE OF THE PARENTS."