Mr. Steinbrenner: [answers phone] What is it, Watson? A lost and found? No, I don't think we need that. If people can't hold on to things, tough luck. [to George] You got a little chunk on your lip, by the way.
George: You know, a lost and found could be a good idea.
Mr. Steinbrenner: Hold on, Watson. You like lost and found George?
George: Definitely.
Mr. Steinbrenner: All right. A lost and found. But there's got to be some kind of a time limit. We're not running a pawn shop here.

George: I got the calzones, Mr. Steinbrenner.
Mr. Steinbrenner: Oh, beautiful. I am starving, George.
George: So, I thought tomorrow maybe we'd try a little corn beef.
Mr. Steinbrenner: Corn beef. Eh, I don't think so. It is a little fatty.
George: How about Chinese?
Mr. Steinbrenner: No. Too many containers. Big mess, big mess. Too sloppy. I want to stick with the calzones from Paisano's. That's the ticket.
George: I just thought it would be nice. A little variety.
Mr. Steinbrenner: No, no, no. George, let me tell you something. When I find something I like, I stick with it. From 1973 to 1982, I ate the exact same lunch everyday. Turkey chili in a bowl made out of bread. Bread bowl, George. You'd eat the chili. Then you'd eat the bowl. There's nothing more satisfying than looking down after lunch and seeing just the table.

Mr. Steinbrenner: [on the phone] That's right. Do you want me to say it again? I'll say it again. I haven't had a pimple since I was eighteen and I don't care if you don't believe me or not. And how's this? You're fired. Okay, you're not. I'm just a little hungry. I'm sorry. Where's Costanza? Where's my calzone? It's 1:15. He's late. Wait a second. I got to call you back. [sniffs] That smell. I know that smell. He's in building. Costanza is in the building. And he's not in this office. He's got the calzone. Costanza! I catch you, I'm killing you, Costanza!

Mr. Steinbrenner: Where the hell is this guy? I've been waiting here for three and a half hours for crying out loud. Should I go? No way, Jack! I'm not going humming it to the guy at the record store again, I'll tell you that.
Secretary: Mr. Steinbrenner?
Mr. Steinbrenner: That's what they call me.
Secretary: Your grandchildren are here to see you.
Mr. Steinbrenner: Oh, well, send them in. Send the little tykes in. Hey, you little kids. Who are you people? Come here. Come here. How about a ride on the Stein-pony express? Get up here. What's your name, Shorty? Mel? Are you Mel?

Mr. Steinbrenner: George, can you imagine what went through my mind when I saw there wasn't going to be enough room under that desk for me and my babies.
George: I'm sorry, sir.
Mr. Steinbrenner: You know what I think? I think you knew about that bomb ahead of time.
George: What?
Mr. Steinbrenner: You had a premonition about the bomb. You climbed under that desk because you have ESP. Quick, George, put a thought in my mind. Mmm. Meatballs! Huh? Unbelievable. You're a wonder, George. Anyway, this terrorist had a specific demand. No more cheap adjustable hats for Hat Day. He wants fitted hats just like the players wear.

George: Sir, I'm sure it's not a bomb.
Mr. Steinbrenner: Oh, yeah? Don't be so brave, George. You mess with them. They're messing with you. All right, boys, send it in. [the bomb disposal robot enters George's office and heads towards a Godzilla toy] Wait. What's that thing straight ahead? Is that's anything? Is that Mothra? Okay, let's check the desk. That's where I heard the ticking. We're gonna search each of those drawers, starting with the top one. Oh. It's just empty calories and male curiosity, hey, Georgie?
Bomb Squad Cop: Looks like there's more compartments underneath.
Mr. Steinbrenner: Compartments underneath? Probably where it is. Okay, boys, let it rip. [a saw cuts through George's desk] I'll tell you what, George, starting tomorrow, no more desks. Just a Lucite table and four legs.

Mr. Steinbrenner: Hey, you kids are up on all the new tunes. Tell me if this one rings a bell: "Heartbreaker. Love-taker. Shoemaker. Won't you fix my shoes for free?" Anything? Shorty? Girl?
Secretary: Mr. Steinbrenner, we just received a call. There's a bomb in the building.
Mr. Steinbrenner: A bomb in the building? Oh, my God. Quick, everyone under the desk.

Mr. Steinbrenner: I am loving this calzone. The pita pocket prevents it from dripping. The pita pocket!

Mr. Steinbrenner: [to himself] I love this magnifying glass. I feel like a scientist.

Mr. Steinbrenner: Yes, yes, come in. Come in.
George: Sir, I just got a call from the terrorist. I told him to call back here, if you have a moment.
Mr. Steinbrenner: Costanza, let me ask you something. Is it "Fe-bru-ary" or "Feb-uary"? Because I prefer "uary,"
and what is this rule?
George: Let me put that on speaker phone for you, sir.
Mr. Steinbrenner: Hello, bomber?
Jerry: [on the line] Yeah, this is the terrorist bomber.
Mr. Steinbrenner: You know, Costanza is busting his hump on those hats.
Jerry: Yeah, you know, about those hats, I think maybe I changed my mind.
Mr. Steinbrenner: You don't want them? They're gone. Goodbye.
George: Good thinking, sir.
Mr. Steinbrenner: Now, what do you want instead?
Jerry: What?
Mr. Steinbrenner: Well, you're the terrorist. You gotta want something.
Jerry: I guess it would be nice if you called ticket-holders if a game is gonna be rained out.
Mr. Steinbrenner: All right, George, you can handle that. [George disconnects the line] What the hell are you doing?
George: We have to stand tough. That's why I had to hang up the phone.
Mr. Steinbrenner: When someone's unstable, you don't stir the pot, George. You know what I'm gonna do? I'm gonna run around the stadium and close all the windows. That's what I'm doing, pal. And I'll tell you something else: I am very nervous!