Dewey: I have friends.
Phelps: Excuse me?
Dewey: I have friends.
Hal: Friends who don't mind driving an extra thirty miles to the next miniature gold course, even if it does have a crow problem.
Phelps: Are you threatening me?
Hal: Boy. Sure sounds like he is to me.
Phelps: Listen, kid, your ball didn't ring the bell. Ball doesn't ring a bell, no free game.
Hal: And yet the boy feels like he got a hole-in-one.
Phelps: Listen, if you want to think you got a hole-in-one, I'll give you a scorecard. You can give yourself 18 holes-in-one. Excuse me. [Hal grabs the scorecard, scrunches it up and throws it at Phelps]
Hal: Dewey, no! [restrains Dewey] Don't worry, I got him, but I am not always going to be here! Come on. Calm down.