John: Well, Mr. Malone, uh, please make sure your patrons use this mat before tracking dirt up to Melville's.
Sam: Oh, uh, John, you know, I... Listen, I really don't think so.
John: Oh. Well, fine. Uh, oh, by the way I... I think this will amuse you, Sam. In looking at the property map that came with my title deed, it appears that the area beyond that hallway actually belongs to me.
Sam: Oh, no, no, John. That's, uh that's the pool room, and those are our bathrooms.
John: No, no, no. Look here. You see? Apparently, it was Melville's old storage basement.
Sam: Uh-huh, uh-huh.
John: Don't. Don't get alarmed. I have no designs on them. I just mentioned it, because I thought it was amusing.
Sam: [laughs weakly] That's- That's very funny. Um... so, do we still get to use it?
John: Of course! We're neighbors. Neighbors help each other.
Sam: Yeah, well, of c- Yeah, of course they do. Of course they... You know, I got an idea. Why don't you let me help you put this duck mat right down at the foot of the stairs?
John: Well, that's very thoughtful of you, Sam.

Sam: This is not Melville's lounge. Uh, I got to go talk to this Hill guy. This is getting out of hand here. This is my bar. It's not his stupid yuppie lounge!
Norm: I think Sam's overreacting just a bit, don't you?
Man: [enters] Ciao, gang!
All: Randy!
Woody: Times they are a-changin', Mr. P.

Sam: Say, Mr. Hill John! Could I have a little chat with you?
John: Oh, certainly, Mr. Malone.
Sam: John, I'm... I'm feeling a little uncomfortable with you delegating new responsibilities to my employees.
John: I understand completely.
Sam: Oh, good, so it'll stop.
John: No... I think I deserve a little leeway. After all, I am allowing you to use that poolroom as well as both washrooms.
Sam: Well, no, no, now wait a second. I could just as easily say that I'm allowing you and your customers to use my stairs. I mean, look, there go two of your customers up my stairs.
John: Yes, and there go two of your customers into my washroom.
Sam: Yeah, well, look, there go three more of your customers up my stairs.

Woody: Dr. Crane, I need your help. I've been walking the streets, pulling out my hair, bumping into things, talking to myself.
Frasier: So, what's new, Woody?
Woody: Well, it's Kelly. I can't stop thinking about her and- and that man with the thumb.
Frasier: Oh, Woody. You've created this whole scenario based on what? A snapshot of an innocent girl in a T-shirt. I mean, look, if you want to straighten things out, why don't you just call her and talk to her?
Woody: Yeah, maybe you're right. I mean, maybe if I just talk to her, we could clear this whole thing up. But, so help me God if a man with a thumb answers...

John: Oh. Oh, um, one other thing. Our, uh, garbage area seems to be strewn with beer cans that appear to have been crushed against someone's forehead.
Sam: Oh.
Carla: I warned you about that.
Phil: Hey, I get crazy!
Sam: Don't- Don't- Don't worry about it, John. I'll, uh I'll take care of that right away.
John: Also, your red Corvette seems to be parked in my space.
Sam: Oh, no. Now- Now, John, I've- I've always parked in that space.
John: Not any longer.
Sam: Uh, fine. All- All right. Uh, I'll move it.
John: Of course you will.
[John wipes his feet on the newly-appointed doormat and climbs the stairs to his restaurant]

Rebecca: Sam, calm down.
Sam: I'm calm. I'm calm. I mean, just according to his lawyer, that horse's ass is not going to take down that brick wall until I pay rent on the poolroom. [laughing] Ooh, ooh, look what I did. I stole all his dinner mints. I know, I know, I know. I shouldn't have done it. Yes. I just let him get to me just a touch. It won't happen again, swear to God. [exits]
Carla: Ten bucks says he goes ballistic by midnight.
Norm: I've got ten that says 11:00.
Cliff: Well, uh, I'll take 9:30.
Carla: Hey, Fras, you want in?
Frasier: Well, I don't think that would be fair. I mean, I am a professional psychiatrist. Then again, it might give me the edge I need. I say by 8:15 he'll be spitting up blood.

Frasier: Oh, Woody. It seems that there's a a Monsignor, uh, Pilot, a very elderly French cleric, who was the one that took the photograph of your beloved.
Woody: Oh, well. Thank you, Dr. Crane. I- I feel a million times better. You know what I'm gonna do? l- l'm gonna- I'm gonna go write Kelly the best darned love letter she's ever had. [exits]
Cliff: There you go.
Norm: So, uh, some old French priest, huh?
Frasier: I have no idea. Apparently, Woody dialed the wrong exchange. Somewhere in Belgium, there's a very confused chocolatier.

Sam: Thanks for dropping me off, honey.
Woman: Sure.
Sam: Yeah. Oh, I tell you guys... Man, phew! Martha's Vineyard is the sweetest place on Earth.
Woman: Bye, Sam.
Sam: Bye, Martha. [laughs] Hey, let me buy you guys a round here, huh?
Cliff: Hey, all right.
Norm: Thank you, Sammy. You are in a good mood, huh?
Sam: Well, why not? I woke up on the right side of her bed.
Frasier: You dog!

Rebecca: I know something that'll make you feel even better.
Sam: Yeah? What's that?
Rebecca: Guess who's taking over Melville's today.
Sam: Me? Wow!
Rebecca: John Allen Hill. Manhattan's foremost restaurateur. And guess who made it all happen.
Sam: Me? Wow!
Rebecca: No. Me. I was talking to Rob-
Sam: Wait, wait, wait. Does this story have anything to do with me?
Rebecca: Yes.
Sam: Wow! Go on, go, go on.
Rebecca: When Mr. Hill makes Melville's the toast of Boston's nightlife, our little bar will ride right along with it.
Sam: And all because of me.
Guys: Wow!

Woody: Guys, check this out. Kelly sent me pictures of herself all the way from Paris.
Cliff: Ah.
Norm: This one's a cutie.
Frasier: Ooh, yeah.
Woody: Oh, yeah, that's her on her bed in the in the convent.
Frasier: Looking, uh, rather fetching in an oversized T-shirt reading, "Je suis avec Stupide." [laughs]