Jerry: Spread out! Sread out you numbskulls. Why don't you just settle it like mature adults?
Kramer: Potato man!
George: No, no, no potato man. Inka-dink.
Kramer: Okay, start with me.
George: Yeah, good, good.
Jerry: Inka-dink, a bottle of ink. The cork fell out, and you stink. Not because you're dirty, not because you're clean, just because you kissed the girl behind the magazine.. [lands on Kramer, then completes the rhyme] And you are it! [lands on George]
Kramer: What?! Wait a minute. No, no, no. What are you doing? No, no. Oh, oh, okay. He's out. I get it.
George: No, no, no, no. I'm "it". I win.
Jerry: No, he's it. He wins. "It" is good.
Kramer: Do over. Start with him.
Jerry: No, no, no, come on, Kramer. Now, you got the socks.