Norm: [enters] Afternoon, everybody.
All: Norm!
Coach: What can I do for you, Norm?
Norm: Well, I need something to kill time before my second beer. How about a first one?
Coach: You got it.

Sam: Oh, come on. This is not degrading. Diane, in Boston, this is considered a very big honor.
Cliff: Yeah. Yeah. Di, it's really big, you know. It's not as big as Mail Carrier of the Year, of course, but it's up there.
Paul: Mail Carrier of the Year? Who do they give that to? A postman or a pigeon?
Cliff: Hey, watch your mouth.
Paul: It was just a joke.
Cliff: Yeah? Well, don't you ever, repeat, ever, joke about the US postal service in front of me or any other mail carrier. All right?
Norm: He didn't mean anything at all by it.
Cliff: Yeah, I'd like to see how fat and sassy he'd be without his daily mail. I'm sorry, Normie, I just don't know what came over me.
Norm: That's OK. You had every right.
Cliff: Well, the Post Office is everybody's target. But when they want a letter fast, huh, who do they come to on their knees?
Paul: Federal Express.
Cliff: He's mine!

Sam: Wait, you dropped some cards here. You dropped some cards.
Diane: Oh, never mind.
Sam: Wait, what is this? "Women pitted against each other in a public display of servitude." Well, I don't know what it means, but it's making me hot.