Sam: You got to get out of here. If she sees you, she's gonna think something's wrong. It'll ruin the mood. Just quick, get out the window. Go on!
Woody: Oh, sure. "Quick, out the window." Not exactly the undying thanks and gratitude I might expect after driving 200 miles through the snow.
Sam: Would you just shut up and move your butt?
Woody: Oh, that's much better, Sam. That'll keep me warm on the drive home.
[After Woody climbs out a small window, he returns through a door right next to the window]
Woody: Sam, there's a door here. Why'd I go out the window?
Sam: Would you get out of here?!
[Woody comes inside and once again climbs out the window]