Ellen: What are you looking at?

Clark: Oh, the silent majesty of a winter's morn... the clean, cool chill of the holiday air... an asshole in his bathrobe, emptying a chemical toilet into my sewer... [Eddie, in the driveway, is draining the RV's toilet] Shitter was full.

Clark: Ah, yeah. You checked our shitters, honey?

Ellen: Clark, please. He doesn't know any better.

Clark: He oughta know it's illegal. That's a storm sewer. If it fills with gas, I pity the person who lights a match within ten yards of it.

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