Norm: All right, wait, Cliffie. I guess we have been friends a long time. You are, by nature, a weasel. There's something you can do for me, I guess. You can buy me a beer... with your pants around your ankles.
Cliff: [chuckles] You can't be serious, Norm.
Norm: Ankles, Cliffie. Standing on that stool... while barking like a seal.
[As a couple enter the bar, Cliff drops his pants, climbs on the bar, puts two straws in his mouth and starts barking like a seal]
Man: Let's not stay. There'll be a cover charge.