Woody: Oh, Miss Howe? Can I ask you a question?
Rebecca: Sure, Woody. What do you want to know?
Woody: Um... which key unlocks the storage room? [swings the keys]
Rebecca: I don't know. Hold it still.
Woody: Look carefully, very carefully. You're getting sleepy. Very sleepy.
Rebecca: Woody?
Woody: Very, very, sleepy. You'll do whatever I say.
Rebecca: Woody, go to sleep.
[As Woody's head drops, Rebecca walks away. Frasier walks over to Woody and snaps his fingers]
Woody: Oh, no. I made her disappear.

Norm: Oh, Fras. You make it home okay last night, buddy?
Frasier: Yeah, thanks for putting me in that cab.
Norm: I figured you had a little too much when you started making fun of that longshoreman's mother.
Frasier: Oh, Lord, I don't remember a thing. What- What did I say?
Norm: Something like, uh, "Unions are for mommy's boys who can't get their own jobs," I think.
Frasier: Oh, why didn't he kill me?
Norm: Well, you- You said you wanted to wait and take him on when there were more people here. So, uh, you said you'd meet the guy back here today, about, uh... Right about now, actually. [Frasier runs for the door] No, wait. Whoa, whoa. The guy couldn't make it! [Frasier turns back] Whoop, there he is. [Frasier runs across the bar] Oh, oh! No, no, no, no, no. That's just a car.
Frasier: Okay, why are you taunting me like some sort of play thing?
Norm: It's just my little hangover cure.
Frasier: [sighs] Didn't help me a bit.
Norm: No, but mine's gone completely.

Sam: Hey, fella. [laughs] You a little sweet on Rebecca there, huh?
Woody: Nah, get out.
Sam: No, come on. You've got that kind of dopey look. Hey, get over here. You can tell us, come on.
Woody: Well... Okay. Uh, last couple of months, I have kind of noticed her. [Sam laughs] In fact, if it weren't for Mr. Drake, I really might go after her. [laughter]
Alan: Come on, Woody.
Cliff: Hey, hey, that's good, Woody, good.
Woody: What's so funny?
Carla: No disrespect, Rhinestone Cowpie. But I really don't think her idea of a hot date is a butter-churning contest in Tobacci-flats.

Woody: Hey, you're forgetting something. Miss Howe said I was cute.
Sam: Yeah, but, Woody, I think she thinks you're cute, kind of like she thinks a puppy dog is cute.
Woody: Yeah, I know. Hey, is that a cut? [patrons barking] Oh, so you guys really don't think she'd go for me, huh? I may just have to show you.
Carla: You couldn't get to first base.
Woody: First base, nothing. I can hit a home run with her. [all voicing dissent]
Cliff: Oh, come on.
Sam: You can't hit a home run.
Woody: Can so. In fact, by midnight tonight, I can get a kiss.
Sam: A kiss, huh? That- That what you meant by home run?
Woody: Yeah, sure. What else could it be?
Sam: I thought you meant go all the way.
Woody: You mean marry her? Sam, where is your mind?

Sam: Hey, would you guys give me a break? You're talking to Sammy here. I am the king.
Hugh: Well, when was the last time that Rebecca said you were cute?
Cliff: Yeah.
Norm: Yeah, yeah, Sam. Might be time to hang up those lips, buddy.
Sam: Hey, no, no, no. Hey, listen, I still got it. And if you need proof, then fine. I will get that kiss from her, and before Woody, too.
Man: Oh!
Woody: Oh, yeah?
Sam: Yeah.
Woody: Well, there's an expression we used to have back in Indiana.
Sam: Yeah?
Woody: Same to you.

Cliff: I'll put, uh, 20 bucks down on the kid.
Sam: You're putting 20 on Woody?
Cliff: Uh, you're right, Sammy, make that 50.
Sam: Come on, you're putting me on here.
Norm: No, Sammy. I mean, look at that face. Okay? That sweet, innocent face. The kind of face we all hate and resent, but we will cash in on it.

Sam: Okay, all right. You know, I'm going to teach you doubters a lesson. I'm gonna take all bets.
Carla: Okay, let's set the ground rules here. [indistinct excited chatter]
Man: All right, wait a second.
Carla: A kiss before midnight tonight. It's got to be a full one on the lips, all four lips touching. For an entire three count.
Cliff: Wait, wait, wait, but, uh, there's got to be a bona fide witness.
Carla: No, I'll do it, I'll do it. You know, I think this is gonna be better than our contest for the biggest spit bubble.
Cliff: Hey, well, it's possible.

Sam: Hey, boss. What, are you doing inventory?
Rebecca: That's right.
Sam: Boy, you know, it is getting warmer.
Rebecca: Maybe we ought to be ordering some more rum and [choking]
Rebecca: Sam? [Sam continues choking] Oh, my God, are you all right?
Sam: No. Not that. Mouth-to-mouth.
Rebecca: Are you sure?
Sam: Mouth-to-mouth.
Rebecca: All right. Oh, God, does anybody know mouth-to-mouth?
Al: I do, I do, I do.
Sam: [coughs] It's okay, I'm all right, I'm all right.
Al: Works every time.

Norm: Better make that move, Sammy. Time's getting short.
Sam: No, this is how I like it. Late innings, game on the line. Yeah. The cool character steps to center stage.
Cliff: Well, I don't know, Sammy. You seem to be sweating a little bit up there.
Sam: No, I'm not.
Norm: Yeah, that's okay. Nothing wrong with sweating. l, myself, have perspired once or twice.
Carla: We could grow rice.

Rebecca: What's going on here?
Carla: Whatever do you mean?
Rebecca: Sam and Woody are trying desperately to kiss me.
Carla: Boy, someone's a little full of herself, isn't she?
Rebecca: Come on, Carla. What's the story here? One woman to another.
Carla: Why would I tell you something about my two closest best friends in the whole world?
Rebecca: I'll give you a paid day off.
Carla: They got a bet. They want to see who could kiss you by the end of the shift tonight.
Rebecca: Why would they do such an asinine, juvenile, thing?
Carla: Look at the contestants. Actually, Woody's doing it 'cause they were razzing him. Sam's trying to prove he still got it. Other than that, just cheap thrills.
Rebecca: Don't tell them I know.
Carla: Wait a minute. You're not cooking up something that's going to humiliate my friends and make them look stupid, are you?
Rebecca: Well, yeah.
Carla: How can I help?