Woody: This is it?
Cliff: Where's the agent supposed to meet us?
Norm: Maybe we'd better get back on the bus, huh? [bus drives off] Hey. Hey!
Carla: Whoa! Whoa!
Norm: The last bus of the day.
Carla: Swell.
Woody: I'm freezing.
Cliff: I'm hungry.
Norm: I'm thirsty. Guy wouldn't let me take my beer on the bus.
Carla: Yeah, we know that, Norm. You only said it about a thousand times.
Norm: Well, he wouldn't.

Cliff: Boy, he really rubbed our noses in it, didn't he?
Carla: You got to love the guy.
Norm: I'm a better person just knowing him.
Woody: Well, at least out here we're safe from that mob guy.
Norm: No, no, Woody. Let me explain it to you one more time.

Rebecca: Hey, everybody! I have the most wonderful news.
Carla: You got a job?
Rebecca: I have a job.
Carla: Oh. I'm sorry. I confused having a job with being paid to actually do something.
Rebecca: It spins just the same, Carla. I just got a call from Redbook magazine, and I have been selected as one of the six Boston businesswomen to get a full beauty makeover. And the final results will be in their next issue.
Carla: Oh, that's too bad. I always liked Redbook.

Carla: Oh, no more Gary's? I can't believe that! You know, in a way, I'm gonna really miss that guy.
Sam: Miss him? You kidding me?
Carla: Yeah.
Sam: Worst thing that ever happened to me. I've never been happier to see a guy go.
Carla: Aw, come on, Sam.
Sam: Nah, he was terrible. He even turned you guys, my good friends, against me.
Carla: Huh?
Sam: You remember Halloween? When you convinced me that I killed the man? Ha ha.
Carla: [laughs] Yeah, you hate to see the great ones retire.

Police Photographer: I'm here to take some pictures of the wreckage.
Carla: [points to Rebecca] Oh, she's way over there.

Rebecca: So, uh, you're a Redbook photographer, huh?
Fashion Photographer: Mm-hmm.
Rebecca: How'd you manage to land this assignment?
Fashion Photographer: Mouthed off to one of the editors.

Police Officer: So, uh, Mr. Malone, do you have any idea who could have done this?
Sam: Yeah, I do. The new owner of Gary's Olde Towne Tavern. A guy named Frank. See, what happened is we went over, you know, in the spirit of gamesmanship, and I gave him the old welcome to the neighborhood. Teepeed their bar.
Frasier: Yeah, we considered plastic explosives on their front door, but thought, "Nah, too funny."

Police Officer: Uh, look, it'd probably be a good idea to just let the whole thing rest, you know what I mean?
Sam: Yeah, thanks, yeah.
Police Officer: Oh, uh, one other thing. Uh, we're not gonna be much help to you here. You see, uh, we're all scared of the guy, and we pretty much let him do whatever he wants.
Woody: Boy, I feel safer with those guys around.

Sam: Well, think about it. I mean, the guy sells his bar and disappears. The guy who buys it all of a sudden moves in instantly. I mean, come on, we're being set up. We're a bunch of suckers.
Woody: You think?
Sam: Yeah. Remember Halloween? The guy crawled into a coffin, you know, and pretended to be dead just to scare the bejeebers out of me.
Woody: [laughs] Yeah, I'm glad we got that on tape. [Norm laughs]
Sam: You got that on tape?
Woody: I'm talking out of turn.

Sam: Oh, my God! Oh, my God! What are we gonna do?
Cliff: It's all your fault, Peterson.
Norm: What?
Cliff: You're the one who wanted us to go back there.
Norm: Yeah, but Carla pulled the damn fire alarm!
Carla: Hey, don't blame me! Sam's the one who made us buy the umbrellas.
Sam: Hey, Norm choreographed the stupid number!