Harry: Tommy? Tommy, they're having a sci-fi convention in Cleveland.
Tommy: "Meet all the aliens from your favorite TV shows and movies. And Star Trek's Mr. Sulu, George Takei, will be signing copies of his new book, Warp Speed, Damn It: The Complete Rants of William Shatner."
Harry: This would be a perfect place to help people understand how wrong their impressions of us aliens are. Or we could just blow the whole damn place up.

Dick: Sally, turn off your sucking device.
Sally: What is it?
Dick: I need your support. I have made the most difficult decision I've had to make since coming to this planet.
Harry: You're giving up Tighty Whities and switching to boxers? No!
Dick: It's not about underwear, Harry, although I have switched. [all groan]

Dick: No! I've decided to tell Mary that I am what humans would call, in their galacto-centric way, an alien.
Harry: No!
Sally: Are you crazy? Dick, why are you doing this? You've never blown your cover on any other mission.
Dick: I've never felt the need to. I keep having these feelings.
Sally: Ai-yi-yi.
Dick: It's this fleshy human slipcover. Oh, sure, it's dashing, tall, manly, washable, but somehow it just makes me feel so awful about deceiving the woman I love.

Dick: Just tell me when.
Mary: When.
Dick: [keeps pouring] When I've poured enough to slake your thirst for champagne.
Mary: When.
Dick: [keeps pouring] Whenever your heart desires.
Mary: When, stop, now.
Dick: [keeps pouring] Now? [champagne overflows]
Mary: Yeah, yes, now, now!
Dick: Half a bottle for one glass. You are a wild woman, but then I accept that.

Tommy: What's so important about this sci-fi convention anyway?
Harry: Oh, don't you see? It's a perfect opportunity to take a stand, to protest how the rest of the world is treating our kind.
Tommy: You want to be some kind of alien Martin Luther King?
Harry: Exactly. Because I, too, have a dream. And in that dream, I'm naked on a Ferris wheel.

Sally: See? Somebody broke into the room. Look at this place.
Frank: Looks clean to me.
Sally: Exactly. They cleaned everything, made the beds, rewrapped the soap, sanitized the toilet for my protection. Look, look, look, look!
Frank: The maid was here.
Sally: The maid? There's a maid?
Frank: Housekeeping. Here. It's a whole book of services the hotel has to offer.
Sally: Dry cleaning, wake-up calls, in-room dining?
Frank: Yes, ma'am, room service.
Sally: Room service? Room service. Do you know what this means?
Frank: No, ma'am.
Sally: We're in Heaven. You, my good man, are the assistant manager of Heaven.
Frank: Thank you, ma'am.
Sally: Bye-bye. [on the phone] Hi. Yes, um, this is Sally Solomon in Room 605. Can I get a turkey sandwich? I can? Can I get 10?

Sally: You there, forget the windows and scrub that sink until I see my face in it. Thanks. [knock at door] Oh, coming! [opens door]
Bellhop: Good afternoon, ma'am.
Sally: Good afternoon.
Bellhop: I'm here to pick up your dry cleaning.
Sally: That pile on the luggage. Hell, do the luggage, too.
Dick: Sally, I just feel terrible.
Sally: Well, you're doing the right thing by not telling her, honey. Darling, when you're done with the bathroom, dust the credenza and fertilize the potted plants. I'm want 'em blooming and making me happy.
Dick: I came here with the sole purpose of coming clean, and now I just feel so dirty.
Sally: Just take a bubble bath. You know, the tub's got beautifully positioned jets, and the shower turns into a sauna.
Dick: "Dirty" was a metaphor.
Sally: I'm sure it was, honey. [on the phone] Hi. Yes. Could we get some eucalyptus oil up here and a couple of big, fat loofahs? Thanks.

Tommy: Sally?
Sally: Hello, boys.
Tommy: What's all this stuff?
Sally: Room service. [gestures]
Harry & Tommy: Room service. [both repeat gesture]
Sally: If I want a towel, they send it up. If I want a radish, they send it up. They set up a laptop, a fax, a VCR. And why? Because until checkout time tomorrow, I'm their queen.

Tommy: Oh, hey, look what I found.
Harry: Oh, what is it?
Tommy: It looks like a list of everything we got while we were here.
Harry: Lobster, lobster, lobster, lobster.
Sally: Hey, hey, what's that number there at the bottom?
Tommy: Oh, it's probably the population of Cleveland or something.
Bellhop: That's your bill.
Sally: Oh, my god.
Tommy: No way.
Sally: What are we going to do?
Tommy: Harry, get me the laptop, the modem, the magnetic strip key that got us into this room, and a shower cap.

Dick: Oh, my god!
Harry: Aliens are not like that.
Dick: Oh, the senseless violence.
Sally: The mindless gore.
Tommy: The incredible sound system. There must have been 30 speakers in that place. That movie kicked butt.
Dick: How can you say that? They portrayed aliens as vicious monsters.
Sally: They blew up the Department of Transportation.
Man #2: Hey, do you mind? We haven't seen the movie yet.
Sally: What do I care? I don't even know you.