Cliff: Well, look at this! It's a reply from my Weathergirl Dorothy. Oh, look at that, the sweetheart. She sent a little photo of herself.
Norm: No, no, no, Cliffie, I believe that's a satellite photo of the entire Eastern Seaboard.
Cliff: Oh, yeah, but she's in there. I mean, I'm in there. We're all in there.
Norm: Let's see what the letter says. "Dear Cliff, Thank you so much for your sweet letter. You did not mention what grade you're in, but from the handwriting I guess that you're a big boy of 11 or 12. Maybe when you grow up, you can be a weatherperson, too. Yours truly, Dorothy Borsik."

Sam: No, listen, I wanna prove to you that I'm not a poor loser. Come on, give me my bowl of chili here.
Rebecca: Thank you, Sam, this is nice of you. Go ahead, just put on Woody's hat and get the chili yourself because I want to get my camera and get a picture of you pouring that bowl of chili that put me over the top.
Woody: Oh, you got to warm it up, Sam. You know how to turn on the flame? It's kind of tricky.
Sam: [o.s.] Yeah, I'll figure it out. [loud explosion]
Woody: Yep, that's how I figured it out, too.

Woody: Mom finally sent out Grandma Meg's pressure cooker, so last night I whipped up a batch of chili.
Norm: Oh.
Woody: Do you want to try some?
Carla: Yeah.
Frasier: Sure.
Woody: It's from an old family recipe.
Pete: Oh, your grandma's?
Woody: Nah, this old family that lived down the road.

Frasier: Mmm! Woody, this is excellent!
Carla: Mmm! Mmm! Normie, what do you think? [Norm belches] He likes it! Normie likes it!
Frasier: Woody, I'm sorry. It seems we've eaten all your chili.
Woody: I still got plenty left in the thermos.
Frasier: Great.
[Lilith taps the remaining drops of chili out of the thermos and licks her finger]
Lilith: I didn't have breakfast today, all right?

Norm: Hey, how was your weekend up in the mountains with Natalie?
Sam: It was so great. Nothin' like shushing down those fine white slopes.
Norm: Yeah.
Woody: Oh, you went skiing, huh?
Sam: No, no, no.
Norm: You're a dog!
Rebecca: Oh! Goodie. Sam, you're back.
Sam: Hey, that's what Natalie said. No, actually, actually, she said, "Oh, goodie, Sam, your front."

Rebecca: Okay, you can open your eyes.
Sam: [chuckling] Okay.
Rebecca: Well?
Sam: I can't tell you how much better Natalie's surprise was.
Rebecca: What, you don't like it?
Sam: Well, it... It's... It's just... Boy. I mean, it's... It's really... Boy. No, that's... That's not... That's not the right word. It's not boy at all. It's, um... It's...
Rebecca: It's a tearoom.
Sam: Thanks for not making me guess.

Rebecca: Well, so what- What do you think?
Sam: Well, you want my, uh, honest first impression? My gut reaction?
Rebecca: Yes, I do.
Sam: I hate it. I hate it. I hate it! Now how could you do this without asking me first?
Rebecca: Without asking you first?
Sam: Wait a minute! I happen to have paid $25,000 to John Hill to get this poolroom back. If it hadn't been for me, you wouldn't even have this poolroom!
Sam: I don't have a poolroom. I have a tearoom. Ish! Oh, oh, oh. Look what you made me do. You made me say "ish."

Sam: What's that on the floor?
Rebecca: It's a throw rug.
Sam: Oh. Oh, hey. [throws the rug] Look at that. It works. Wait. This wouldn't happen to be a throw table, would it?
Rebecca: No. Sam, wait!
Rebecca: You know, if you're gonna take my money, I think my ideas deserve a little bit more respect.
Sam: All right. You're right. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Uh, this just came as a little bit of a shock to me, that's all. Tell you what, why don't l, uh, just, uh, go outside here and come back in and start fresh?
Rebecca: That would be good, Sam. Thank you.
Sam: I hate it. Hate it. I hate it! Ish!

Sam: I'm putting that room back the way it was! As soon as I find my pool table. [opens his office door]
Cliff: Three ball, corner pocket. Thanks, Sam. A little too much English on that.

Rebecca: Sam, please, now I know I know I sprung this on you, but please give it a chance. I think it could work. My marketing survey showed that this neighborhood was in need of something like this. People want to go to a place where they can just relax. You know, a nice, quiet, pretty little place where they can just sit and talk.
Norm: [belches] Good one.