Father Barry: Well, I know exactly what to do. You relax and put your faith in me. You do trust me, don't you?
Frasier: Absolutely, Father.
Father Barry: Good!
[Frasier screams as Father Barry yanks his hand out of the pool table]
Frasier: [whimpers] My thumb!
Father Barry: Offer the pain up to God for the poor souls, my son.
Frasier: What?!
Carla: I think you just lost one, Father.

Valerie: Boy, it was hard sneaking out of there, but I don't think he saw me.
Sam: Good. So you're sure, now, your father doesn't know?
Valerie: Oh, Dad stepped out. I meant Reuben the busboy. He's still in tears.
Sam: You know, I really feel bad about that. Maybe I should send him something.

John: Oh, Sam. I've written up a new agreement stating that since you've agreed to never see my daughter again, you now have full use of the poolroom. That's funny, that looks just like my daughter's suitcase.
Sam: No, that's mine. You know what they say at the airport: "Many bags do look alike."
John: Isn't that her monogram: V.H.?
Sam: Uh, actually I think it used to belong to Van Halen.
John: Sam, indulge me. You're telling me this is your suitcase, so by extension, would this be your negligee?
Sam: All right, the secret's out. I'm a transvestite, John.
John: And a size seven?
Sam: A guy can dream, can't he?
John: Sam, you are not a transvestite.
Sam: Hey, hey, those are fighting words there...

John: Well, Sam, since you've broken the agreement, it seems that once again I have legal title to your poolroom and your bathrooms. I'll be expecting the rent promptly at the first of every month. Oh, by the way, I'm doubling the amount. Have a good evening.
Sam: Oh, he's so bad! I hate him! I hate his whole family! I hate everybody he's ever talked to! Well, you know, I may not be able to take his daughter out, and I may have to pay him his stupid rent, but I can still hit him where it hurts. Yeah, you know something? This is the busiest time in his restaurant, right? Watch this. Hey, Reuben, get your coat! We're going dancing!