Woody: Wait a minute. Let's just stick with this title thing.
Rebecca: No, no, Woody, you said you would settle for a raise. Now, I'm going to hold you to it.
Woody: Oh, no, I blew it! I should have demanded a title. Money gets spent, but titles are forever.
Rebecca: No, Woody, I told you-
Woody: Doggone it, Miss Howe, you're not going to palm some raise off on me. I don't want money. I- I deserve a title.
Rebecca: Woody, I've met some tough negotiators in my life... All right, you deserve it. I'll go to the mat for you. Congratulations. You're the new Senior Bartender.
Woody: Get out! Senior Bartender?! Wait till I tell my folks! To think I came in here asking for a stupid little raise, and now this. I just hope it doesn't go to my head.
Rebecca: Oh, that's what's nice about you, Woody. Nothing ever goes to your head.

Sam: Norm, you- You work for the big firms. What do they do when they need a lot of money?
Norm: All right, first off, they- They go and fire all the dead wood.
Sam: Yeah, then what?
Norm: I'm long gone by then, Sam.

Larry: Hey, Sack-Happy, how you doing?
Cliff: Hey, there, Rubber Thumbs. Hey, I thought you'd be on a dim route by now.
Larry: I don't see you pushing many number one sacks there, Clavin.
Rebecca: What the heck are they talking about?
Norm: It's kind of a postal rap.
Cliff: Hey, there's a flap that you had a brush with utility.
Larry: Ah, 604 is all the way.
Cliff: Yeah, well, you know the scheme fin.
Larry: Yeah.
Norm: You know, I actually once thought of asking Cliff what it all meant, but then it occurred to me he might tell me.

Frasier: It's our one-month anniversary, and I'm just stumped about what to get her. Any suggestions?
Norm: Well, you could get her a nice "mank."
Frasier: "Mank"?
Norm: Yeah. You know, it's a mock mink. I got one for Vera. You cannot tell it from the real thing. It's great. Unless, of course, it rains, and then you just toss it in the dryer, and you leave the house for a couple hours.

Cliff: So, uh, correct me if I'm wrong there, Doc, but that's from the, uh, Machiavellian Cubist era, isn't it?
Frasier: No, Cliff, but, uh, thank you for participating just the same. No, my anniversary gift to Lilith is an abstract expressionist piece.

Norm: Hey, hey, hey, hey, what the hell kind of place is this? Who's the manager here, and why aren't they serving free drinks to calm this angry crowd?

Woody: Well, uh, Miss Howe, I've been here at Cheers for quite a while now. I'm a good worker, I don't take vacations, I'm never sick, and I was just wondering if...
Rebecca: No, Woody, Woody, I'm going to have to stop you right there. I cannot give you a title.
Woody: "Title"?
Rebecca: Yes, I know you deserve it, but the front office just doesn't let me hand those things out.
Woody: No, Miss Howe, you don't understand.
Rebecca: You know, sometimes people work here ten, 15 years before receiving a title. How can I justify?
Woody: Miss Howe, I want a raise.
Rebecca: Oh, is that all? That's fine. How much do you want?
Woody: Just like that?
Rebecca: Well, of course. I thought you came in here to beat me out of a title, but if you just want to settle for money, well, that's fine.

Woody: Attention. Attention, everyone. Now's the moment we've all been waiting for. I hope you're as excited as I am, because this is probably the most exciting event I've ever been to in my entire life. Well, e-except for the time that our prize cow Velveeta gave birth to a two-headed calf. Now I don't know how many of you have seen a two-headed calf get born, but the ones who have will bear me out.
Sam: Woody, Woody.
Woody: Actually, it's not as exciting as you might think. Only one of the heads could move.
Sam: Woody.
Woody: The other one just seemed kind of dazed.
Sam: Hey, Woody, pick the damn number, will you then?

Frasier: Well, l, I can't put this off another minute.
Sam: What's up, Frasier?
Frasier: I'm a man in a predicament, Sam. I've got to find a gift for the dearest, sweetest, most wonderful woman on Earth.
Carla: So, you finally dumped Lilith, huh?

Sam: I was wondering...
Rebecca: The answer is no.
Sam: Oh, come on, a little raise is not going to kill you.
Rebecca: No, a little raise is not going to kill me. And neither are those little free rounds of drinks we're always giving everyone. Or the little bar tabs all our friends are always running up. But you add them all together, and they spell bankruptcy. Which is probably more than you can do.