Gary: Sam, I hope you don't mind, but since I don't have a bar anymore, I invited the developer over here to, you know, help me celebrate. Sam, I'd like you to meet your new neighbor, Rutherford Cunningham.
Harry: Real nice place you have here. [offers his hand] Nice to meet you. Sam, is it?
Sam: Yeah.
Gary: A bottle of your finest champagne.
Woody: [answers phone] Cheers. Oh, Gary, uh, phone for you, the bank.
Gary: Oh, yeah. Sam, do you mind if I take that in your office? It's big business, that sort of thing.
Sam: Sure.
Gary: Bank's not used to million-dollar deposits. [laughs]
Harry: So, Sam! It's good to see you again. Now what's that I heard about the finest champagne?
Sam: Did you do this? Did you, did you destroy his bar?
Harry: No, I didn't. Gary did. He's the one hired the bulldozer. Me? I'm just an interested land developer who's gonna come up a little short on funds... say about a million bucks short.
Woody: I have the same problem with a decimal point. [Gary screams off-camera]
Harry: Excuse me. I believe that's the sound of my check bouncing.

Gary: Mr. Cunningham? Uh, where's, uh, Mr. Cunningham?
Sam: Uh, he left. Uh, why, Gary?
Gary: Uh, no reason. [runs out]
Sam: Oh, man! Oh, you are terrific!
Harry: If you guys ever need any more help, you just give me a call.
Sam: Oh, thank you, Harry.
Harry: Ah, don't mention it. I guess I've always had a soft spot for you lunkheads.
Sam: Hey, how are we ever gonna pay you back?
Harry: Sam, you already have.
Sam: Aw, what a guy, huh?
Cliff: Yeah, boy.
Norm: Wonder what he meant by, we already have paid him back, though?
Sam: Oh, I don't know. You know, probably that warm spirit, the camaraderie, something like that. [opens register] Yeah, yeah, he stole all my money.

Norm: Oh, Sammy, look who's here. Harry the Hat.
Sam: Aw, man, how many times am I gonna have to chase that guy out of here? Grab your wallets, everybody. Hello, Harry.
Harry: Hey, Sam.
Sam: What you doing, trying to sell some bogus watches, some knock off's to my customers and try to cheat 'em?
Harry: Sam, that hurts. This is no knock off. That's a $5,000 Rolex. But it's on sale for $2,500.
Sam: Is this a real Rolex, Harry?
Harry: Yeah.
Sam: Whoa. [hits it against the table] Hey. Sounds like a Rolex, doesn't it? Oh, look at that... [drops it in a beer] Still ticking, too.
Harry: Uh, Sam.
Sam: Hey, do me a favor. Just, just take your bogus goods and peddle them someplace else, will ya?
Salesman: [walks over] So Harry, are you interested in buying the watch?
Harry: No, but I think my friend Sam might be.

Sam: [on the phone] All right. All right. But now, the band I'm looking for is gonna have to be able to do all the old Irish standards. Yeah. "Danny Boy," "Galway Bay," "When Irish Eyes are Smiling", that kind of thing. You think you can handle that? All right then. Okay, I'll get back to you. Yeah, adios to you too, Manuel. [hangs up]

Rebecca: Sam, I need a couple hours off tomorrow because they want to interview me.
Sam: Honey, it's the busiest day of my year.
Carla: What difference does it make? She doesn't do anything anyway.
Sam: You know what? Why don't you take the whole day off?
Rebecca: You're a peach.

Rebecca: New Armani, new hair. Am I ready for the Boston League of Businesswomen or what? I just have to get my resume and then I'm on my way. Is this in any way my fault?
Sam: No, sweetheart.
Rebecca: Okay then wish me luck. Bye-bye.

Sam: Hey, come on, Norm, Carla, listen we can still win this thing, right? We, we've got the green beer, we've got the band. All we've got to do is get rid of this wall somehow and hustle like there's no tomorrow. All we need is, uh, well, a little winning attitude, right?
Carla: There you go.
Sam: A little positivity. Hey, fellas, do me a favor, play us a little something to get us in the mood.
Norm: Yeah.
Irish Band: [sing] They broke into our Dublin home The dirty English dogs They took away my sister And they beat my da with logs Limey scum, limey scum I toss a bomb and still they come...
Irish Singer: Everybody!
Irish Band: [sing] Limey scum, limey scum...
[time lapse:]
Irish Band: [sing] And everywhere I looked Was death, death, death Everywhere I looked Was death, death, death. [Woody is the only person to applaud]
Irish Singer: And now, for a sad song. [mournful melody]
Irish Band: [sing] 'Twas a baby's crib that floated
Sam: No! No! No! No! No baby's crib! Stop it. Here, get the hell out of here, will you? Take your money. Go on, get out.
Irish Singer: Go to hell.

Sam: Let's face it; It's over, huh? Might as well tally up and see what we've got there.
Carla: Yeah, Woody, what's the total?
Woody: Well... [adding machine keys clicking] $1 million, five hundred thousand.
Frasier: Decimal point, Woody.
Woody: Oh. Hold everything. $150 even.

Carla: Looks like we lost again.
Norm: Well, Sammy, guess you're gonna have to fork over that 150 to Gary.
Sam: Uh, actually, we raised the stakes, remember fellas?
Norm: Oh, yeah, how much do you have to pay?
Sam: Well, it's... It's not money. It's uh... It's more like a, a little favor, actually.
Paul: Oh, yeah? What is it?
Sam: It's... It's something that people do everyday. Uh, uh, I'm going to, uh, need, uh, you three guys to help me out here.
Paul: Hey, just once I'd like to be included, huh?
Sam: All right, Paul, you're in.
Paul: Thank you. Thanks, I owe you Sammy.

Norm: Well, what do we have to do?
Sam: Uh, it's no big thing, really, Norm. We've just got to go over to Gary's and... [mumbles]
Norm: What?
Sam: Uh, it's no big deal. Fellas, all we've got to do is, is let him... [mumbles].
Norm: What?
Sam: Just get your coats and follow me. I'll tell you on the way over.
Cliff: Hey, Sam, what's the big deal. Why don't you just tell us what we have to do?
Sam: All right, you got to... [all screaming]