Woody: So, Sam, what are you concocting there?
Sam: Well, you know how superstitious Carla and Eddie are. I thought I'd mix them up a batch of my good-luck wedding punch. It never fails.
Woody: Isn't that the same stuff you made when you were getting married to Miss Chambers?
Sam: Woody, you want to flush this down the toilet?

Sam: Are you gonna take her on a honeymoon?
Carla: Hey, got any suggestions?
Norm: Yeah. New Orleans. I found a great little honeymoon spot just kind of tucked away off Bourbon Street. Great food, very romantic, steamy atmosphere, you know. Yeah, I had the time of my life, and then Vera tracked me down.

Rebecca: Carla, here's your final paycheck.
Carla: Thank-
Rebecca: I might say that you have been a unique employee, and it's going to be very difficult to fill your uniform.
Carla: Thanks.
Rebecca: You don't happen to know any other short, pregnant cocktail waitresses, do you?

Sam: Boy, you know, I'm gonna miss you around here.
Carla: Oh, Sammy, I'll drop by once in a while to watch all you 9-to-5'ers spill drinks on your butler suits.
Frasier: So, when's the big day, Carla?
Carla: Well, I'd like to do it as soon as possible before my little hunk of back bacon here changes his mind.
Eddie LeBec: Ah, no way, I'm not one of those flakes you used to go out with. Oh, but listen, we have to get married on a day with a two in it 'cause two's my lucky number.
Carla: Rats. Mine's three.
Eddie LeBec: Oh, no sweat. Lucky two, lucky three... We can get married on the 23rd or the 32nd.
Carla: That's right, honey.
Eddie LeBec: Oh, right, right. No, um... As long as it's not on a Wednesday.
Carla: Ooh, yeah, bad juju.
Eddie LeBec: Yeah.
Sam: This is going to be an interesting wedding. The two most superstitious people in the world.
Carla: Hey, hey, don't say that, it's bad luck.

Sam: [on the phone] Well, that cute little dimple? Well, I think I still got it. It's kind of hard for me to see back there. [laughs] [Rebecca enters her office] Um, Renee, I'm going to have to get back to you. Yeah, bye-bye. [Sam switches line] Uh, Linda, sweetheart, uh, can we continue this over lunch? Well, um, your place. Don't cook. [laughs and hangs up]
Rebecca: Let me guess. Personal call?
Sam: Very. [winks]
Rebecca: Malone, I find winking really smarmy.
Sam: Yeah, but beneath this smarm is a lot of charm, and I think you know that.
Rebecca: I know this: I want you out of my office now.
Sam: All right, all right. I'm sorry. I know I'm not supposed to get personal calls here, but what the hey, you know; super-strength Sammy has been off the shelves now for over a year, there's a lot of pent-up demand out there. What can I say?
Rebecca: Say, "l'd better get back to work. I don't want to get fired."
Sam: You're cute when you're humorless. Did you know that?
Rebecca: [answers phone] Cheers. No, Simone, I'm sorry.
Sam: [whispers] Simone? Wait, wait, wait, wait.
Rebecca: Sam's working. Try him later at home. Well, then, perhaps on your next visit to the States.
Sam: Simone? Man, you just cost me a roll in the hay.
Rebecca: I owe you one.
Sam: You're on.
Rebecca: I didn't mean that. Wait a minute. I think we need to get something...

Norm: Geez listen to this. "Scientists discover wild parrot who claims to be Elvis."
Cliff: So?
Norm: "So?" I mean, this one wins the "Too stupid for even you, Cliff" award.
Frasier: Now, really, must you two wallow in this sensationalistic tripe? It pains me no end to see America's wits dulled and their morals abrogated by this opiate of the asses.
Norm: [scoffs] Well, let's check this out, Cliffie. "l was Sigmund Freud's love child."
Frasier: No! I've heard rumors that he betrayed Martha with his sister-in-law, but I never dreamed there were progeny. [takes the paper] You rapscallions.

Eddie LeBec: Well, if I get any time off from training camp, I thought maybe Carla might like to see Waikiki.
Carla: Waikiki, Honolulu, Hawaii?
Eddie LeBec: Sure, we'll hit them all.
Carla: Yeah, right! I only hope I can get some time off from the Howitzer. [off Rebecca's look] Sorry. Miss Howitzer.
Eddie LeBec: Time off? Well, you'll be having all the time in the world. You think I'd be having a wife of mine work in a crummy bar like this? [off Rebecca's look] No offense, Miss Howitzer.
Rebecca: It's Miss Howe.
Sam: Oh, take it easy. They're just complimenting your big guns.
Carla: Wait a minute. Y- You're telling me that I don't have to work anymore? You mean, I can just sit around the house all day, eating peanut butter out of a jar, and watching my toenails grow?
Cliff: She's, uh, quite a catch, Ed.

Sam: Hey. Picked a date yet?
Carla: Yep. Eddie wants to do it a week from Saturday, anytime before 4:00 p.m., which is okay with my psychic, as long as our auras remain in the blue spectrum, and there's no solar eclipse.
Sam: It's really tough planning a wedding, isn't it?
Carla: Ooh, tell me about it.

Norm: Boys, we're all set up with my buddy Bruce. He can get us the same silverware Carla picked out from the Filene's catalog for over two-thirds off.
Cliff: Oh, yeah. So what's the bite-ski?
Norm: 20 bucks apiece. I'll catch you guys later.
Frasier: Say, Norm, there isn't any chance that this stuff is stolen merchandise, is there?
Norm: No, of course not. Listen, if anyone asks, we never heard of Bruce, we can't find the receipt, and if you run into me up on the street, call me Larry.
Frasier: My mind's at ease.

Sam: So how's the bride on her big day?
Carla: Couldn't be better, Sammy. All celestial omens are favorable. Seems that Eddie and I picked the one day this century when all the planets and constellations are in perfect alignment. So either we get married by 4:00 today, or we wait until the year 2042.
Sam: I don't know, call me old-fashioned, but I still think you ought to get married before your baby does. [Carla chuckles] How'd you manage to swing a church wedding? You know, being divorced and all.
Carla: Don't you remember? I had my marriage to Nick annulled years ago.
Sam: Oh, right, right, right, right. Took forever.
Carla: Mm-hmm. But things got speeded up when Nick tried to sell the Bishop his watch.