Benny: Hey, if Marty's not coming to your house for Thanksgiving, who's gonna give me a ride?
Harry: I'll have my sister pick you up.

Jill: Delores, we're really gonna miss you.
Al: Yes, we are.
Delores: I've ignored my asthma for years. It just keeps getting worse and worse.
[When she sees Harry smoking a cigar, Delores grabs it and puts it out in a beer bottle]
Harry: Oh, I forgot. Cigar smoke bothers you. [pulls out another cigar]
Delores: You light that, Harry, you're sleeping alone tonight. [Harry lights the cigar]

Jill: We have talked about this already. There's no way that you can buy a business.
Tim: We don't know that. I don't even know what I paid for the place. Harry, what did I pay for the place?
Harry: Eighty thousand dollars.
Jill: Eighty thousand dollars?
Delores: The nail salon talked you down to 70.
Harry: Oh, yeah.

Brad: Check out this Swiss army knife.
Tim: You know what that thing is? That's a Swiss army knife.
Randy: Wow! It's got a magnifying glass, corkscrew, can opener...
Al: That's right. Tweezers and a nail file.
Harry: Yeah, for Al's mid-afternoon pedicure.

Delores: Harry, you've gotta decide who comes first - your stupid friends or me.
Harry: Hm. When you put it that way, my stupid friends!
Delores: All right, Harry. Keep your hardware store. I'm outta here, and I'm not coming back.
Harry: Is that a promise?
Delores: Yeah. And I'll promise you another thing. When you get home tonight, I'm not gonna be there either!
Tim: Wait a minute. Delores, hold on... [Delores walks out] Harry, come on. Aren't you gonna go after her? I think she's serious about leaving you.
Harry: One can only hope.

Al: Harry!
Harry: [imitating Brando] You talkin' to me? You talking to me?
Al: Harry, I can't worry about your acting career right now. We gotta get this done by tomorrow. Tim is way behind.
Harry: Look, I can't give you any more time. I got customers outside waiting.
Tim: I know. [enters] Hey, guys. You know you got customers waiting out here? You guys are gonna have to leave! We're shooting a video! Come on, come on, come on.
Al: He is completely out of control.
Harry: He just ran off paying customers.

Al: You're right. You're right. I have to fire him. How do I do that?
Harry: Frankly, Al, I don't give a damn.

Al: Moving on. One more shot and we're done. Set up here, I'll go get the props.
Harry: Uh, just a quick suggestion. I think it would be great if we ended with a song.
Al: No singing, no dancing and no ad-libbing.
Tim: [enters] Hey, Harry.
Harry: Go away.
Tim: I'm not gonna drive away any more of you customers.
Harry: I'm not worried about that. I am in the middle of a performance.

Harry: Look, it's my store and I want to sing at the end of the video.
Al: Harry...
Tim: No, no, no, no, no. Now there's an idea. Hold on a minute. Um, now, your song would be much more effective if you had a big entrance, wouldn't it?
Harry: See? Now we're talking.
Al: An entrance? Maybe from the storeroom.
Tim: Yes.
Al: You know, you could enter in here. Wait for your cue. I'm sure we can get some music in later. [Harry pounds on door]
Harry: [o.s.] Hey, I can't hear the music!
Al: We're back!

Al: I tell you, the holidays come quicker every year.
Harry: [laughs] I know. I just got over July 4th and it's already Thanksgiving.
[Tim knocks Al out of the way as he enters the hardware store with a cardboard Rudolf]
Al: Oh!
Harry: That was fast. Now it's Christmas.