J. Peterman: You know, George, growing up as a boy in Costa Rica, I heard a rumor that mama had taken a lover. Perhaps Bosco was this man's name.

Kramer: I'll bet I can guess it.
George: Pssh. Yeah. Right.
Kramer: Oh, all right. Yeah. Uh, let's see. Um, well, we can throw out birthdays immediately. That's too obvious. And no numbers for you, you're a word man. All right, let's go deeper. Uh, what kind of man are you? Well, you're weak, spineless. A man of temptations. But what tempts you?
George: Huh?
Kramer: You're a portly fellow, a little long in the waistband. So what's your pleasure? Is it the salty snacks you crave? No, no, no, no, no, yours is a sweet tooth.
George: Get out of here.
Kramer: Oh, you may stray, but you'll always return to your dark master, the cocoa bean.
George: I'm leaving.
Kramer: No, and only the purest syrup nectar can satisfy you!
George: I gotta go.
Kramer: If you could you'd guzzle it by the gallon! Ovaltine! Hershey's!
George: Shut up!
Kramer: Nestle's Quik!
George: Shut up!

George: Where are we gonna eat?
Jerry: We're gonna meet Elaine and Peterman at the Chinese place.
George: Peterman? Nobody mentioned anything about Peterman.
Jerry: Of course not. If I did would you have gone?
George: No way.
Jerry: There you go.
George: I don't even know Peterman. How the hell am I gonna relax? I'm gonna have to be on all night. I don't like being on, Jerry. I would much rather be off.
Jerry: Trust me, you're off.