Cliff: We're going to die out here. They're going to find our bleached bones.
Sam: Look, let's just relax here, everybody. Everything's going to seem better in the morning.
Frasier: Oh, yes, Sam. "In the morning." When the desert sun comes up. By noon, it'll be 120!
Cliff: Forget it, Doc. You're never going to see 120. At 110, your lungs explode.
Frasier: Cliff, that is ridiculous!
Cliff: Oh, yeah? Well, would you like to make a friendly wager on that?