Dick: Oh, I can't get his face out of my mind!
Nina: Strudwick's?
Dick: No, Nina. Little Davey Tennant, the boy down the block. You see, ever since he was three years old, Davey's wanted more than anything to see a real professional baseball game. He wished the biggest wish his little heart could muster. But his dad was laid off and couldn't afford the tickets. Well... one day last week, little Davey was outside playing ball like he always does, and who should walk up the block, tall as a building, but home run king Mark McGwire. To see little Davey's eyes light up as McGwire handed him four seats on the first base line, well, it's something that I will never forget. [shouts] Yes, Strudwick's face! Stop asking such stupid questions!
Nina: Look, you knew about her past.
Dick: Yeah, but until last night, her past was- was faceless! Now it's got a face. The fuzzy, smirking face of Vincent W. Strudwick.

Harry: Okay. We got one Pastrami Lasorda. And one Mozzarella Fitzgerald.
Tommy: I don't get the names of these sandwiches.
Harry: Tommy, here's your Hammy Connick Jr.
Sally: Well, that one's obvious. Look, it's piled high with ham and connick.

Mary: "Truth or dare."
Dick: "Who was your last fling?"
Mary: Oh, that would have to be... [both laugh] Vincent Strudwick. [both laugh]
Dick: Strudwick?! No!
Mary: Yes, I'm back on Martini Island! You can set me up.
Dick: You can kiss my tiny pewter ass!