Cliff: Uh, Maggie... Hold on! Maggie! I'm ready to make a commitment. Hey... Maggie, I can see.
Margaret: Oh, really? Honey, that's wonderful.
Cliff: l, uh... I want you to be my honey.
Margaret: Well, then, I don't want to wait any longer. I'm going to rush over to my hotel, and I'm going to get my stuff, and I'll meet you in an hour at your apartment. [exits]
Sam: Hey, man, congratulations. I am so proud of you.
Cliff: I'll see you later.
[As Cliff tries to stand up, he falls face first into the bar snacks on the table]
Cliff: Uh, there's one thing.
Sam: What's that?
Cliff: I seem to be paralyzed from the waist down.

Sam: Hey, you look spiffy.
Cliff: Oh, yeah, hey. Feel the material here in this clip-on.
Sam: Oh, yeah, yeah. They're doing incredible things with synthetic fibers nowadays.
Cliff: Tell me about it. Sam, look at this. Watch. You can't stain this baby. Look.
Sam: Oh, no. Wow.
Cliff: Look at that. Beads right up.
Sam: That is cool.
Cliff: Isn't that something? Watch what happens with picante sauce.
Sam: No, no, don't do that. I'll take your word for it.

Margaret: You came all this way to borrow a tie?
Sam: Uh, yeah. The tie and, uh... To have some of Cliffie's corn.
Cliff: Oh, yeah, yeah. I'm famous for my corn. Oh, would you like some?
Margaret: Oh, I don't smoke, Cliff.
Cliff: I bet you thought that this was an ashtray. No. It's a specially designed corn server. Here. There you go. Just try some. You'll never have corn any other way now.