Cliff: All right, so what do you say we go back there and shoot some stick?
Norm: All right. But only if you that trick where you cram the pool cues up your nostrils and make like a walrus.
Cliff: Oh, yeah, right. I got another twist on it. I can get the fat ends in there now.

Carla: Why, where's Sam? I thought that you said Sam was coming tonight, Diane.
Diane: He is Carla. He is probably just coming around the corner, down the stairs now at this moment.
Carla: Oh, well I should hurry right over there and greet him. Open the door for my boss on his return. Hello there, Sam.
Sam: Hi, Carla.

Sam: Oh, boy. What a silly misunderstanding this was.
Diane: Sam, there was never a misunderstanding. I knew the truth the whole time.
Sam: Well, that's great. That's great. Well, I'm off again.
Diane: If you were going to lie about this weekend, you certainly would have come up with something a lot smarter than this Uncle's funeral thing.
Sam: What do you mean by that?
Diane: I could check on it in a minute. All I'd have to do is call up the local newspaper and ask them to check on their death notices for the last few days.

Carla: Diane. It's almost closing time. You said that Sam would be back before closing time. [Sam storms through the front door] Damn!

Sam: Well, come on, come on. You've been playing games with me all day, too.
Diane: That's right. Don't you think you deserve it?
Sam: Deserve it? You know, you're talking to me like talking to a child.
Diane: Do you think you've been acting like a child?
Sam: Don't use that tone of voice on me. I hate that.
Diane: What tone is that, Sam?
Sam: That one right there! I hate it!
Diane: OK. Fine. Here's a different tone. You slime!

Carla: Coach, I need a draught.
Coach: One draught coming up.
Carla: Careful. For the record, Coach.
Coach: Carla, the record's in the bag. I've got less than four hours and five glasses to go.
Carla: Yeah, don't get cocky.
Coach: Carla, I can't lose. I've never broken five glasses in four hours in my life. Here, watch this. [throws a glass on the floor]
Carla: Coach, you swept out the feathers.
Coach: Coach, feathers are for chickens. Here. [throws another]
Carla: All right, you made your point.
Coach: Made my point, Carla? Watch this. [throws another] Whoops.
Carla: Coach, you know, you're only two away now.
Coach: [holding two glasses] Two away, Carla? Do you know what I think of two away?
Carla: What?
Coach: It scares the hell out of me.