Norm: [enters] Afternoon, everybody.
All: Norm!
Woody: Hey, Mr. Peterson, how's life?
Norm: Oh, the plot's okay, Woody, but it kind of falls apart at the end.

Cliff: Oh, uh, l, uh, hate to be a buttinsky here, but, uh, this is the absolute worst time to buy a house.
Sam: Why is that?
Cliff: Ah, seller's market. Unless you run into that, uh, rare breed, you know, the motivated seller. Now, you know, for a price, I could put you in a sweet little, uh, three-bed, two-bath number. Uh, it's got, uh, fishnetting over the patio and a handmade, uh, uh, lava rock fire pit in the back.
Norm: Cliffie, uh, that sounds a little bit like your house.
Cliff: It is my house, Norm.
Norm: Wait, wait, wait now. You said your mother was going to live there till the day she died.
Cliff: Well, uh, she's clean, and she doesn't eat much.

Diane: Sam, please. Just come with me and take a look at it.
Sam: I'm not- l'm not ready to own a home. It's a you- You got to work up to that.
Norm: Sammy's right. It's a big responsibility. You got, uh, lawns to mow. You got plumbing to fix. You got gutters to clean. Then, you know, every couple of years, you got to paint the entire thing from top to bottom. Honestly, I don't know where Vera gets the energy sometimes.
Frasier: Norm, you should be ashamed of yourself.
Norm: Yeah, I guess I should, shouldn't l? You know, thank God I'm not, huh?