Rebecca: What does this mean? When did Evan start taking Sam to lunch? When did the two of them become good friends? When did I start talking to myself?

Mimi: Mr. Malone, I hate to rush you, but people are waiting. Have you made a decision yet?
Sam: Yes, Mimi, I have. I'll take the tuna on toast with iced tea.
Mimi: Done.
Sam: Oh, and, uh, after lunch, we'll, uh, finish the memo I was drafting. Where did we leave off?
Mimi: "To whom it may concern."
Sam: Boy, I like the way that sounds.

Carla: Hey, Shoulder Pads, freeze.
Rebecca: Yes, Carla?
Carla: I seem to be a little short.
Rebecca: Yes, but you have a warm personality.

Norm: What you reading, Cliffie?
Cliff: Oh, the, uh, Massachusetts Scientific Journal.
Norm: Yeah?
Cliff: Yeah. Yeah, you know, this, uh, magazine is sent to some of the most prestigious and high-minded intellectuals in the greater metropolitan area.
Norm: How come you have it?
Cliff: Some guy on my route left town and uh, didn't leave a forwarding address.

Rebecca: Something funny is going on here. Why did he hire Sam? Why is he making him an executive? What's the matter with me?
Woody: Well, for one thing, Miss Howe, you talk to yourself an awful lot.

Evan Drake: Ah, Sam.
Sam: Oh, hey, Evan. I'm sorry. I was engrossed in my work here.
Evan Drake: Just came to check on you. How you doing? Looks like you're making yourself at home here. Desk. Supplies, huh? And the requisite picture of your... uh, self.
Sam: It's not really a great one, but it's the only big one I had.

Rebecca: Ridiculous. Stupid Sam. Executive? [muttering continues]
Norm: I'm sorry. Are you talking to me?
Rebecca: No, I was talking to my- Yes, I was. So, you say that they did make Sam an executive?
Norm: Oh, yeah, absolutely.
Cliff: Yeah. Yeah. Giving him the red carpet treatment over there. He's a regular Armand Hammer.
Woody: Oh, that reminds me. I got to change the baking soda in my refrigerator.

Sam: Well, I feel pretty bad. So bad.
Rebecca: I know. And I feel terrible that I had to tell you.
Sam: Oh, well there's no sense in us both feeling so bad.
Rebecca: Oh, God. I just hate to see you like this. [hugs Sam]
Sam: Oh. Oh.
Rebecca: You know, sometimes these things happen. But you will always have your job here.
Sam: Oh, it's not just losing the job. It's that I was, you know, taken advantage of.
Rebecca: I know. I know.
Sam: You know, that I was used, that I was just, you know, manipulated by somebody who just cynically wanted to get something from me. [Sam leans over and lays Rebecca against the couch]
Rebecca: Malone, what are you doing?
Sam: l- l'm feeling bad.
Rebecca: No, you are feeling pretty good.
Sam: Okay, I admit it. I'm not a sad guy. I'm a happy, horny guy. You know we need pity, too.

Carla: When you added up my paycheck, I think you forgot to count a couple of fingers and toes.
Rebecca: Oh, I'm afraid I had to dock you a total of two and three quarters hours for being late last week.
Carla: I had good excuses.
Rebecca: Three deaths in the family since Monday?
Carla: It's been a bad week.
Rebecca: Carla, Carla, here's a little time management trick that I use. I set my watch ahead a half an hour. That way, when I think I'm getting someplace on time, I'm actually fooling myself into getting there early.
Carla: Hey, you know, that makes good business sense, boss. I guess if I set my watch an hour ahead, it'd be twice as good, huh?
Rebecca: Right.
Carla: Hey, what do you know? It's lunch time.
Woody: No wonder I'm so hungry.

Cliff: Oh, hey, Carla, looky here. It says the Britain Institute's doing research on twins. Maybe you can get your gruesome twosome in there, eh?
Carla: Yeah, right, like I got nothing better to do than schlep Little Elvis and Jesse around. Especially so some pointy-heads can plug electrodes into their skulls to see what makes them slobber.
Cliff: That's too bad; they're offering, uh, 50 bucks apiece.
Carla: I always wondered what makes them slobber.