Kramer: So Heather called?
George: Yeah, but get this. The message said, "Call me if you have the time". If I have the time, you get it?
Kramer: No, but this is all very exciting.
George: She knows that I have her clock. I know that she has my hat. I think she's getting ready to make an exchange.
Kramer: Of course, there's the possibility that you've gone right out of your mind.
George: I've looked at that. It seems unlikely.
Kramer: Well, I'd look again. So, how come you didn't call Jerry about all this?
George: I can't talk to Jerry anymore. Ever since he moved into that apartment he's too much, like you.
Kramer: That's a shame.

[Jerry enters the apartment without knocking. His hair is messy like Kramer's and he has a frenetic energy.]
Jerry: Hi, buddy. I'm on no sleep. No sleep! You don't know what it's like in there. All night long, things are creeping and cracking. And that red light is burning my brain!
Elaine: You look a little stressed.
Jerry: Oh, I'm stressed!
Elaine: So, Kramer, what am I supposed to do? If I don't have that fur hat by four o'clock they're gonna take me down like Nixon.
Jerry: You know my friend Bob Sacamano?
Elaine: I thought he was Kramer's friend.
Jerry: Well, he called last night about 3 a.m. and we got to talking. He sells Russian hats down at Battery Park, forty bucks.
Elaine: Forty bucks? Are they Sable?
Jerry: No, but the difference is negligible.
Kramer: Oh yeah, I like this idea.
Elaine: All right, lets give it a shot. Let's go.
Jerry: Giddy up!

Jerry: Seth, you're the manager, can't you turn off the sign?
Seth: Jerry, I lied. I'm just an assistant manager. [over loud speaker] Number sixty seven, family feast.
Newman: Number 67, right here. Right here!
Jerry: Hello, Newman.
Newman: Hello, Jerry.
Seth: And don't forget your steamed broccoli.
Jerry: Hold it. Broccoli? Newman, you wouldn't eat broccoli if it was deep fried in chocolate sauce.
Newman: I love broccoli. It's good for you.
Jerry: Really? Then maybe you'd like to have a piece?
Newman: Gladly. [spits it out] Vile weed!
Jerry: It's Kramer isn't it? The greasy door knob, the constant licking of the fingers, he's hooked to the chicken isn't he?
Newman: Yes! Yes, now please. Someone, honey mustard. [drinks the mustard like it's scotch]