Carla: Hey, boss lady, what you all duded up for?
Rebecca: You mean, why am I not wearing a sweatshirt and plastic earrings?
Carla: Yeah.
Rebecca: 'Cause I just came from the company Christmas party.
Sam: Ooh! Did you corner Mr. Drake under the mistletoe and make nice-nice?
Rebecca: None of your business.
Sam: [sing-song] Oh, Rebecca didn't get her Christmas goose.

Sam: Uh, Woody. Uh, Woody can't work. He has to go back to Indiana, be with his folks.
Woody: Not this year, Sam. I'm a big boy now. I got commitments in the city. I landed a part in our children's theater production of The Story of Snow. I play the King of the Flakes.
Cliff: Hmm. That'd be a stretch.
Woody: We only have a matinee on Christmas Eve, so I'd be happy to work that night, encores permitting.

Rebecca: Oh, and just so you guys know I'm not pulling rank, I'm scheduled to work that night, too.
Sam: No. Wait, wait, wait, wait. Listen, no way am I punching the clock on one of the most sacred of family nights in the whole year.
Rebecca: Oh, and what do you have planned? An intimate little dinner with one of your nieces?
Sam: She makes it sound so cheap.

Rebecca: I hope you're not hanging that there for my benefit.
Sam: Are you kidding me? Who'd want to kiss somebody who makes everyone else work on Christmas Eve? Oh, all right. [Rebecca ducks as Sam leans into kiss her]

Woody: The reviews are in. We're a hit!
Frasier: Good for you, Woody.
Norm: Let's, uh, take a peek. Okay. "The Story of Snow was way excellent. l think any kid in Miss Pedesta's class who misses it is a full-on goon."
Woody: And that from the kid who panned Goldilocks.
Norm: Yeah.
Woody: Yeah. I'm gonna call my mom and read it to her. Boy, I'll tell you, I sure am glad I stayed in Boston after all. If I was home right now, I'd just be sitting around listening to my aunt and uncle talk about who's dead and who's sick and who lost part of their head in a thresher. [on the phone] Hello, Mom? [crying] I miss you all so much.

Carla: Would you look at the poor slob? Forced to humiliate himself in some stupid outfit just to make a few bucks for the holiday season. Yeah, why doesn't he just wear a sign, "Loser for hire?"
Man: Hey, Peterson? You're late again. I'm not covering for you this time.
Norm: No, no. I think you have the wrong Peterson.
Man: Oh, yeah?
Norm: Yeah.
Man: Well, when you find the right one, would you tell him not to sweat in the hat so much?
Norm: Well... Guess I'm busted. Okay, I didn't mention anything to you guys, 'cause I thought that you guys just might razz me a little bit about being a Santa Claus over at Nagle's.
Carla: That was you?
Norm: Mm.
Carla: That's what my kid meant when she says that "Santa smells like the place where Mommy works."

Woody: [on the phone] Are you making the stuffing bone dry, the way I love it? Ooh. Well, can't you freeze some and mail it to me? Well, no, not the gravy. That would be stupid. [to Sam] My mother.

Sam: Oh, God. Can you believe Rebecca? As long as one customer stays, we all stay. It's 10:30. The guy's been nursing the same drink for over an hour.
Carla: Yeah, I wish he'd hurry the hell up so we could get out of here. Presents are all wrapped. All the kids are in bed. And Eddie's waiting up for me so that we could exchange our goodies in private.
Sam: You don't wait until Christmas morning to open your presents?
Carla: Oh, yeah, but we like to exchange our goodies in private.

Woody: [on the phone] Dad repainted the Wise Men? Well, is Balthazar still black?

Woody: Oh, no, wait. That Miss Howe's.
Sam: You- You got something for Rebecca?
Woody: Well, it's nothing special. It's just an antique silver frame with a silhouette of her face that I cut out in black velvet.
Sam: Wow.
Woody: Oh, I'm glad you like it, 'cause I got you the same thing. Well, it's your face.