John: Ah, Miss Tortelli, nice to see you again.
Carla: What're you doing down here, Hill? Hope you're not here to ask me for a date.
John: Date? Is that what you call it? I think we skipped dating, Miss Tortelli, and went straight to the fall of Rome. Tell me, is the rumor true your son's going to be a priest?
Carla: Yeah, what of it?
John: Well, I didn't realize you were Catholic. The only time I've heard you say anything remotely religious was that night a few weeks ago when you called me Zeus.
Carla: The hell I did.
John: You want me to run the videotape?

Carla: [whimpering] I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.
Frasier: Carla, you've been leaping out of your skin every time there's a clap of thunder. Surely you know it's simply static electricity being discharged into the atmosphere.
Carla: You are so naive!
Frasier: Carla, you've got to calm down.
Carla: You don't get it! I mocked God! And this is not like getting in trouble with your parents or your teachers or your boss. I mean, this is God! Famine, flood, pestilence, disease. Who do you think came up with that? [thunder rumbling] [moans] He is just toying with me now.
Frasier: Carla, you can't believe that God has a personal vendetta against you.
Carla: Look at my kids. Look at my husbands. Look at my life. What do you think?
Lilith: Uh, I don't think any major religion still propounds the theory of a vindictive God, who hurls thunderbolts and takes personal vengeance on people's transgressions. [thunder roaring] I believe that's for you.

Frasier: You know, Carla never ceases to amaze me. She has a strange mixture of fervent religious faith and primitive superstition. I suppose it's a result of our ever-changing, mixed-up culture.
Lilith: I don't know that you should blame Carla's belief system on culture, Frasier. The need to worship higher intelligence is an innate and universal phenomenon. In fact, in recent weeks, it's become clear that my lab rats worship me as a goddess. I must confess, I don't discourage them.
Frasier: That's very interesting, dear. Apropos of nothing, uh, how many vacation days do you have coming?
Lilith: I don't know. Uh... 80, 85.
Frasier: Well, what do you say we cash 50, you spend a little time with, uh, some, oh I don't know, some people?

Frasier: Sam, just how much do you pay that boy?
Sam: I pay him a fair amount. See, Fras, I don't think you understand that a, a bartender's hourly wage is just a very small portion of his overall income. Most of it comes from... tips.
Frasier: I see. [Sam looks at Frasier] I won't bring it up again, Sam.
Sam: I think that'd be best.

Cliff: Hey, everybody. You'll all be very happy to know that I am now a, uh, published humorist.
Frasier: Wow. The Post Office Newsletter. I hear that's tough to get into.
Cliff: Oh, yeah, I'll say. Yeah, they've been after me for quite some time now, and I finally gave them permission to, uh, print one of my "daffynitions."
Norm: All right, let's hear it. [others groan] What? Hey, hey, he was going to do it anyway. Don't make me the bad guy here.
Cliff: Here you go, uh Daffynition, Postal Increase: What happens to your feet after your finish your route. [Lilith chuckles]
Norm: Now, Lilith, you, uh, you thought that was funny?
Lilith: Oh, yes. You should see her at a Marx Brothers' movie.
Lilith: Isn't Zeppo hysterical? The way he just stands there without expression or reaction. Boy, that cracks me up.

Cliff: You know, uh, I've been thinking about Carla's son becoming priest. Get this, "My son, the father." Get it? "My son, the father." That's a rich comedy area, I'm telling you.
Frasier: Lord help me, I miss the "daffynitions."
Cliff: Oh, hey, do I hear a request? Okay. Daffynition. Psychiatrist: a guy who shrinks your head and your bank account.
Lilith: [chuckling] Ouch. Bull's-eye.
Cliff: Yeah, well, you know, I've got enough material for an entire stand-up comedy act. Okay, all right, uh... Why is it that women go to a "stylist" and men go to barbers? What's up with that?
Lilith: [chuckles] That's so true.

Sam: Ah, Hill.
John: Uh, Sam, you wanted to see me?
Sam: Yeth, I did. What do you think that is?
John: Well, it looks like some kind of animal tooth, Sam.
Sam: Is my tooth. I broke it on your salad. And I want you to know I will see you in court.
John: Oh.
Sam: Yeah.
John: Good heavens, this is frightening. I'm being sued. By Elmer Fudd. Listen, Sam, I don't recall selling you any crab salad. And I don't recall you being in my restaurant. What I do remember is that I gave Woody some leftovers, and you can't sue me for that. Incidentally, Sam, you're drooling.
Sam: That guy dwives me cwazy.

Rebecca: Sam, where have you been all afternoon?
Sam: Oh, just pacing back and forth with my sign, ruining John Hill's business. I saw him peeking out the window. I think he's ready to make a deal. How do you like my sign, huh?
Frasier: "I broke a tooth at Melville's. Ask me how." That's a very scary little spider holding the tooth there, Sam.
Sam: That's, uh... That's a crab actually.
Frasier: Crab. Well, looks like a spider.
Sam: You know, a lot of people said that, so I ended up changing the story. I told 'em, that there was this outbreak of poisonous spiders up at Melville's. It scared the hell out of 'em.

Emcee: Uh, now for the final performer this evening, let's put our hands together for the merry mailman, Cliff Clavin. Come on, put 'em together.
Cliff: Hey. Oh, yeah, thanks. Uh, hi ya! So, uh, Boston audiences are the greatest audiences in the world. [silence; a few people leave] Uh, you know, I got this friend, uh, whose son is gonna become a priest. I know where this is going. "My son, the father." What's up with that? [silence]
Norm: I never thought I'd see a whole roomful of people not laughing at Cliff.
Cliff: Well, hey, let's see what topics we got in the ol' mailbag, huh? Hey, oh, uh, here's one. [a couple leave] Uh, anybody have a chance to call a TV repairman lately? What's up with that? [chuckles] [another couple leave, with only Norm & Paul left] Here's a doozy. Avon lady, ding dong. What's up with that?
Paul: Well, that's it for me. [exits]
Cliff: Well, I know, uh, seriously, folks, on-on a serious note I just want to say... drinking and driving. What's up with that? Thank you very much, ladies and gentlemen. I've really enjoyed it, uh, and I gotta say this is the most love I've ever felt in one room in my life. Thank you. Thank you. [Norm claps]
Cliff: Normie, where'd everybody go?
Norm: There was a, uh, bomb scare.
Cliff: Really? Where?
Norm: Right about where you were standing.

Carla: Hey, everybody, shut your yaps. My son has a big announcement to make. Okay, go on, Gino, tell them what you told me before in the car.
Gino: I said, "Ma, I think I want to be a priest."
Carla: Did you hear that? Did you hear that?! My kid is going to be a priest. Finally, when I visit one of my kids on Sunday, there's not going to be an inch of glass between us.