Ray: Listen, I just got a couple more questions about this Jerry Musso thing.
Andy: Oh, God. You said you had something for me.
Ray: Yes, couple more questions. Ray, please, you're killing me.
Andy: You were on the phone with me all night.
Debra: You were?
Ray: You were asleep.
Andy: So was I!
Ray: Look, just tell me-
Andy: Listen, Ray, who cares what he thinks? I'll tell you something. I found out he's a major-league scuzball.
Ray: What do you mean?
Andy: The other day, a guy at the station was selling candy for his kid's school, and Jerry said, "I can't. I'm allergic to chocolate." And I have the feeling that he isn't.

Robert: Well, well, look who it is.
Ray: What are you doing here?
Robert: Andy got me on the guest list a couple of days ago. I wanna get Jerry Musso's autograph. I'm a big fan.
Ray: [blows his nose on Robbie's autographed napkin] Thank you.

Ray: A funny thing. I had heard... And I know how things get blown out of proportion and stuff gets misconstrued. Whatever. I had heard that somebody told me that you hated me. [nervous chuckle]
Jerry Musso: What?
Ray: "Hate." Yeah, that was the word, "hate," which seemed odd to me because we had never met. I mean, I have my faults, like anybody else, but I think once you get to know me, l... You know, it's like my mother says, it's... I- Well, anyway, I don't know, I was just wondering-
Jerry Musso: Well, I don't understand. Why- Why would I hate you?
Ray: That's what I said.
Jerry Musso: Yeah, well, that's ridiculous. I don't hate you. Who told you that? I really- I don't know where you could've got that. In fact, you should do my show. Would you do my show?
Ray: Yes. Yes, that would be great. Okay, where's Andy? Andy! Andy!
Andy: Hey, what's up, Jer?
Jerry Musso: Andy, this is Ray Barone, "New York Newsday."
Andy: How do you do? Ray, is it?
Ray: Yeah.
Jerry Musso: Well, how come we haven't booked Ray on the show? I mean, he'd be great.
Ray: You know, I knew this was some kind of big misunderstanding.
Jerry Musso: Oh, sure, sure. Well, listen, enjoy yourself, and it was nice to meet you.

Ray: Hey, you know, thanks.
Robert: Yeah, yeah.
Ray: That guy called me dumb.
Robert: You're not dumb, Raymond.
Ray: Even if I am, is that any reason to hate me?
Robert: Of course not. There's so many better reasons.
Ray: Yeah. Hey, by the way, that's not a pimple, all right? That's an ingrown hair.
Robert: Well, it's weird, and it won't go away.

Ray: Deb. Deb.
Debra: Hmm?
Ray: Do you think I'm dumb?
Debra: You've asked me this before.
Ray: I guess I forgot what you said 'cause I'm dumb.
Debra: No, Ray, you're not dumb.
Ray: Really?
Debra: You're neurotic, but you're not dumb. I wouldn't be married to a dumb guy.

Ray: You call me "idiot."
Debra: Come on. That's just my little nickname for you. You're not an idiot.
Ray: So, what is it? It's like an opposite nickname, you know, like someone who never smiles, you call 'em "Smiley"?
Debra: Yeah, that's right.
Ray: Night. Good night, skinny. 'Cause that's not an opposite nickname. My nicknames mean exactly what they say. If you want an opposite nickname, then... Hi, chubby. I don't know. I- I am an idiot.