Paul: Another beer, Sam. Uh, put it on my tab.
Sam: Actually, Paul, we don't run tabs here.
Paul: What do you mean you don't run tabs here? Norm Peterson has a tab the size of his pants.
Sam: Well, that's, that's Norm.
Paul: Well, this is Paul.
Sam: Come on, Norm doesn't have much in life, except Cheers.
Paul: What about me? I'm unemployed. I don't like my wife.
Sam: You're putting me in a tough spot here.
Paul: I'm sorry, Sam, I really want a tab.