Sam: Gary? We're here in peace. Now we want to let bygones be bygones, so we brought along some champagne to bury the hatchet. What do you say, huh?
Gary: Is that right? No tricks?
Sam: No tricks.
Gary: Wow, that's damn decent of you, Malone. Milt, some glasses.
Sam: I'll be honest with you. I mean, last night at Cheers, all we could talk about was revenge. That trophy meant a great deal to us. But then, you know, cooler heads, light of day and all that kind of thing, we just... Well, we realized that to do battle with you would just destroy both of us. At least we have the satisfaction of knowing that we, uh, we beat you in one thing. Maturity.
Gary: Oh, actually, I'm afraid you came up short there, too. I just sent a dozen roses over to Cheers with an apology note.
Sam: Oh. Oh, well.
Gary: Here's to Cheers.
Sam: No, no, no. To Gary's.
Gary: Yeah, to Gary's!
[As Gary and his patrons drink champagne from the glasses, it dribbles down the front of their shirts]