Woody: Look at that baby go. "The Wabash Cannonball."
Cliff: Yes, sir, with two mail cars... [train whistle]... serving the citizens of this great land, Woody.
Norm: Cliffy, come on, man. I laid track for you, I helped you with the wiring. When do I get to handle the controls?
Cliff: When I think you're good and ready there, young man.
Woody: That's right, Mr. Peterson. When we think you're good and ready. Hey, Carla, check this out. Mr. Clavin came up with a great idea for this railroad I think you're really going to like.
Carla: Does it involve tying him to the tracks with a stick of dynamite in his mouth?
Cliff: Now look, Carla, this baby is a great labor-saving device. You'll see. Now, why don't you just sit right on over there and pretend that you're a customer?
Woody: So, what will you have, Missy?
Carla: Gee, I love role playing. May I have a beer, please, Mr. Bartender?
Woody: One brew coming right up!
[Woody places the beer on an flatbed carriage and Cliff sends the train running down the bar]
Cliff: All right, now, Norm, take heed here. It takes a steady hand to man the throttle.
Norm: Yeah, but it only takes one finger to throw a switch.
[After Norm presses a button, the train switches from a track heading to Carla to a dead-end that sees the beer stop in front Norm]
Norm: Last stop. Everybody off.