Woody: Oh, I hope it's a mesquite grill. Then I could make a mess of Aunt Lou's baby back ribs.
Rebecca: It is not a mesquite grill, Woody. It's a mechanical bull.
Woody: Well, it's just as well. Aunt Lou's ribs weren't all that good. Come to think of it, she choked on one of them. Just her luck... It was a week before the Heimlich maneuver came out.

Kelly: Oh, I almost forgot. Sam.
Sam: Yeah?
Kelly: You're invited to come Saturday, too. After all, you're almost a member of the family. Mother, Sam was the one who introduced Woody and me.
Sam: Actually, no, I didn't.
Kelly: You didn't?
Sam: No.
Kelly: Oh, gee, it would be rude to un-invite you now, so l... l guess we're stuck. Well, we'll see you.

Woody: Mrs. Gaines! Jiminy Cricket! Criminy's sake! I don't mean to use foul language, Mrs. Gaines, but, I mean, you've really upset my apple cart.

Roxanne: Now, Woody, Kelly tells me you're resistant to coming to her sister's wedding this weekend.
Kelly: Mom, Woody's self-conscious. He always feels that he sticks out like a sore thumb and makes a fool out of himself.
Roxanne: Why is that, Woody?
Woody: Well, there has been a precedent set. Although I think your gazebo would've burned down whether I'd been there or not.

Roxanne: Well, Woody, we'd all like you to be there. In fact, you're invited to the rehearsal dinner, as well. Saturday night, 7:00, Kelly's father's house. You've met Mr. Gaines, haven't you?
Woody: Met him? Heck, I almost broke his big toe.
Lilith: Woody, you didn't know Daddy was standing behind us when you pulled the van out.
Woody: Well, yeah, I did. I just thought he took a smaller shoe.

Woody: Hey, Sam, you know, I was looking in the dining room earlier. Why the heck do they have two forks at everybody's place?
Sam: Well, now, Woody, that's 'cause, uh... Well, if you drop one, you got yourself a spare.
Woody: Well, that makes sense, but why is one smaller than the other?
Sam: Well, that's in case you drop that one, too, it won't make as much noise.

Rebecca: Brother. I work for the stupidest corporation in America.
Carla: You'd have to.
Sam: What's the matter, sweetheart?
Rebecca: All right. Get this. One of their restaurants, some hick dive in Texas specializing in Fillet aux Armadillo, has gone belly-up, so they want to stick us with the one piece of equipment that they couldn't seem to liquidate.

Woody: Mrs. Gaines, thank you for helping me adjust my napkin, but it's really not necessary. By the way, I don't usually wear it tucked in quite so far.
Roxanne: Is there something about me that makes you nervous, Woody?
Woody: Well, I don't know. The things you say, your hands, your coconut-cracking thighs.
Roxanne: Then you have no problem with my feet.
Woody: Mrs. Gaines, stop it! I'm not having sex with you! I won't have sex with you! I won't! I won't! I won't! No sex! Do you hear me? Now I want both hands and both feet on the table right now!
[After Woody sits down and starts eating again, everyone around the table is staring at him]
Woody: Kelly, am I using the wrong fork or something?

Carla: Hey, aren't you Phil, the tire distributor from Rhode Island?
Man: Look, lady, if you've got problems with your wheels, talk to your dealer.
Carla: No. I'm Carla. Remember? We went out a couple of times. It must've been years ago.
Man: I'm sorry. I don't remember.
Carla: Yeah. I guess it's been a while. You were still pushing whitewalls. Maybe this will jog your memory. Art's Hideaway Adult Motel?
Man: I'm sorry. Look, in the tire game, you meet a lot of women.
Carla: Yeah, but you can't have forgotten. Mirror on the ceiling?
Man: No.
Carla: Vibrating bed? Latin love basket? The trick with the tie?
Man: That was you?
Carla: Yeah. Oh, God, that was one steamy night, wasn't it, Phil?
Man: Oh, God, I'll say.
Carla: Yeah.
Man: Hey, look, um, I got a few hours to kill. Why don't we hit old Art's for a little reunion?
Carla: Hey, what kind of girl do you think I am?! I am a widow! Get outta here, you pig! You make me sick!

Norm: Well, I have to say, those mechanical bulls are the most useless thing ever put in a bar.
Cliff: Now, now, Norm.
Norm: OK. Present company excepted, OK?
Cliff: Thank you, Norm.