Woody: Boy, that Carla sure is smart, buttering up to Mr. Clavin so she'll win. Wish I'd had those smarts when I was doing the county fair circuit with my hog Maribelle. Rule number one: you got to schmooze. You gotta go to the right parties. You gotta sell out. I wouldn't. So I brought Maribelle home a loser. It broke my heart.
Frasier: How was Maribelle?
Woody: Not bad with applesauce.

Norm: Okay, Rebecca, uh, here's the deal. I'll paint the whole office, including woodwork, and, uh, it'll run you 400.
Rebecca: $400 sounds reasonable.
Norm: Oh, no, that's 400 beers. The "B" with the slanty line through it. It's kind of my own special currency.
Rebecca: It's a deal.

Sam: Well, this year they're holding it at Cheers.
Norm: All right!
Paul: All right!
Sam: No, no, no, no. No, It's not what you think. They changed all the categories here. Listen to this. Speed, efficiency, memorization, personal warmth, courtesy. I mean, it's like bra size doesn't even exist anymore!
Frasier: Well, Sam, they're just trying to keep pace with the current social enlightenment. I mean, how would you like to be judged solely on the basis of your looks and your body alone?
Sam: I'd love it. I'd win.