Mrs. Dubcek: Well, this came for you. The mailman accidentally left it in my bedroom.

Dick: Mary, what happened to your arm?
Mary: Oh, it's nothing. After they wrapped my ribs, the nurse walked me to my car and slammed my shoulder into the door.
Dick: I guess accidents will happen, huh?
Mary: Yeah. [chuckles] She then took me back to the hospital, and they forced it back into its socket, gave me a shot of cortisone.
Dick: Oh, well, I hope that made it feel better.
Mary: Well, no. The cortisone was mismarked. It was minoxidil. But they tell me the excess hair will fall out by beach weather.

Sally: You know that song Macho Man?
Tommy: Mm-hmm.
Sally: He's who they're singing about.
Tommy: So I guess rugged good looks and broad shoulders really do it for you women.
Sally: Oh, please. Lots of guys have that. But Justin- Justin can fix things. He can build things. He's got a belt full of tools. A... A tool belt, if you will.
Tommy: How am I supposed to compete with guys like that? I mean, look at me. My arms are stick-thin. I shave, like, once a month. My ass is flat.
Sally: Sweetie, listen to me. Don't be so hard on yourself, Okay? I mean, I'm sure there are a lot of girls who are more than willing to settle for a tiny, little wussy like you.
Tommy: That helped very little.

Tommy: So, Alissa, you know that big car that sweeps the ice? That's called the ice car.
Alissa: Isn't that a Zamboni?
Tommy: Yes. Yes, but Zamboni translated from Italian means "car of the ice", or ice car.

Mary: Oh, listen to you two. Haven't you ever heard of the Machacan tribe?
Dick: Well, of course, but tell us for Nina's sake.
Mary: [grimaces as she stands up] Machacan men believed that by wearing this sheath over their.... That by wearing this sheath, they would ward off all misfortune.
Dick: Great. Can I wear it?
Mary: It didn't work, Dick. They were wiped out by a volcano. Everything we know about them we have learned from their perfectly preserved... From this sheath.
Dick: Are there any volcanoes in Ohio?
Mary: No.
Dick: Great. Then I'll wear it. [puts it on his nose]
Mary: Give that to me.
Dick: Oh, fine. Smells like hell, anyway.

Nina: Oh, and, Dr. Solomon, the Andrew K. And Eileen B. Fleischman foundation called. They received your grant application.
Dick: Oh, excellent!
Mary: Dick, the Andrew K. And Eileen B. Fleischman foundation grant is very prestigious. Do you really think you have a chance?
Dick: Oh, it's in the bag. Once I dazzle them with my scientific prowess, they'll hand over that $20,000 and then, pffft! I'm off to Disney World, baby!
Mary: That money is for scientific research.
Dick: Oh, you're right. I should probably hit Epcot while I'm down there.

Dick: "Dear friend, this is a chain letter. You have three days to send copies of this to ten of your friends, but do not throw it away, or bad luck will befall you. Sincerely-" Mary, what is this?
Mary: I got one, too. [throws it in the trash] Bunch of crap. Just throw it out.
Nina: Whoa! You are crazy. My Aunt Janelle threw a chain letter out once. The same day, she crushed her hand in a juicer.
Dick: I don't understand. What kind of power could this letter have?
Mary: The power to waste your time.
Nina: [scoffs] Why risk it, Dr. Solomon? Just send it out.
Mary: Every culture has its own superstition. I have studied 'em all. And the one thing they all have in common, they're all a little bit cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo.
Dick: Well, Nina, I hope that your aunt now realizes that the plastic plunger included with the juicer is there for a reason.

Sally: Hey, guys. Well, I finally figured out why Dubcek gave me such a deal on the garage apartment. Look at all this junk I found in my toilet tank.
Tommy: Oh, no, no. I think that junk's supposed to be in there. It's like your toilet's brain.
Harry: Or heart.
Sally: Whoopsie. Well, I guess we better go down to Elberfeld's hardware store on main street. Hey, you know, they give out free peppermints.
Harry: Whoo!
Tommy: Not anymore. Ever since that new Hardware Stop superstore opened out by the interstate, they went out of business. Old man Elberfeld died a lonely, broken man. [Sally gasps]
Harry: There's a new Hardware Stop by the interstate?
Sally: Awesome! Let's go!

Dick: Family meeting. Family meeting! Okay, can any of you come up with a reasonable scenario in which throwing out a piece of mail would result in having your ribs broken by a floor waxer?
Harry: Absolutely. The guy who was waxing the floor thought you were throwing out his paycheck.
Dick: No. The guy with the waxer knew nothing about it.
Tommy: Well, why were you throwing out his paycheck?
Dick: No. There was no paycheck.
Sally: No paycheck? Well, no wonder the waxer dude went psycho on you.
Dick: No! No, no! It's called a chain letter. It's just a random, meaningless piece of mail, but Nina seems to think that throwing it away can cause bad luck.
Tommy: Oh, please. That's stupid. There's like a billion-to-one chance that those two things are at all related.
Dick: Thank you.
Sally: Yeah, just like there's a billion-to-one chance that aliens from a distant galaxy would actually visit... this crappy little planet.

Tommy: I don't know anything about hockey. I'm a pathetic excuse for a man.
Don: Ah, don't worry. When the puck drops, sticks are gonna meet flesh, teeth are gonna fly, and blood will stain the ice. There will be so much testosterone wafting up to these seats, she'll definitely mistake some of it for yours.
Tommy: That's cool.