Aunt Helen: All right. Mm. Mm, mm. Another year, another hairdo. Who you trying to catch, Hattie?
Vy: I guess you and Will gonna be hitting one of them all-night Thanksgiving jams, huh?
Hattie: Oh, girl, that boy couldn't keep up with me if I gave him a head start.
Workman: I've got one more outside. I'll go get it.
Vivian: He's a hunk.
Vy: Yeah. Did you see the way he was looking at me?
Aunt Helen: Girl, that man wasn't looking at you, he was looking at me. Tsk. Looking at me like it was lunchtime and my legs was Colonel Sanders' extra crispy. Wasn't he, Geoffrey?
Geoffrey: If you mean something fast and cheap, yes.

Will: You know, a few hours ago, my biggest problem was judging a stuffing contest. Now look at me. Stuck in a jail cell with some angry 400-pound man whose life you wrecked. You clipped him, didn't you? I'm sorry, Uncle Phil. [groans] It's the worst Thanksgiving I ever had.
Philip: And thank you so much for sharing it with me.
Will: Look at us. All hungry. I'm about to dig in to this cream-of-bug sandwich. And our family sitting around the dining-room table, big gorgeous roasted turkey, four different kinds of stuffing. Candied yams, and macaroni and cheese, mashed potatoes.
Philip: And little tiny onions swimming in a sea of cream sauce. Hendricks!
Lieutenant Hendricks: Listen, Banks, if it's a sandwich you're after, they're all gone.
Philip: In the first place, it's not "Banks", it's "Your Honor." Now you get your butt over to that telephone and you pull the district attorney from whatever meal he may be eating and you tell him that you have Judge Philip Banks in jail under a bogus charge. And you might wanna mention the fact that we have been denied due process. A phone call, access to legal representation and every other conceivable right guaranteed to us by the constitution. And don't forget to mention that no statements have been taken, no witnesses interviewed, and none of the most fundamental procedures that the newest rookie on a beat would know, have been followed. My nephew and I are completely innocent, and if you don't take care of this matter, it will be you having your picture taken with numbers across your chest.

Carlton: I tell you, I really feel like I connected with those people down at the shelter today. When I reached out to them, they reached back. Of course, I stepped out of the way so they couldn't actually touch me but I really connected.

Will: And we want $10,000 in unmarked bills and a helicopter on the roof gassed up and ready to take us to Tijuana. Oh, sorry. I just kind of got caught up in the moment.

Sylvia: Those don't go there.
Hilary: Yes, they do. You said before-
Sylvia: No, I told you those go in the back. I should expect that from someone who's probably never cleaned a dish in their life.
Hilary: What's your problem? From the first second I got here, you've been on me like I've done something wrong. Sure, maybe I don't come to places like this and do this kind of work as often as I could. And maybe sometimes I say things that sound insensitive and self-centered but that's who I am, damn it. It doesn't make me a bad person. Just because you volunteer more days a year than I do doesn't mean you're better than me.
Sylvia: I didn't volunteer at all.
Hilary: Oh, so you're paid to be here.
Sylvia: Honey, I live here.
Hilary: So the plates go in the back?

Vivian: I wonder why Philip and Will are so late.
Vy: Well, maybe they pulled in, smelled your stuffing and turned back around.
Aunt Helen: [laughs] Now, that's a good one. [laughs] Of course, yours ain't no better.

Ashley: You know, it's just like men. They're probably at some sports bar puffing cigars, watching football on a big screen completely disregarding the years of suffering that women...
Hattie: Shut up, Ashley.

Hilary: So, what do you think?
Sylvia: A caterer for Thanksgiving dinner. I think it's just as snooty and stuck-up as you can get. But I think it's great. Everybody's having a good time.
Hilary: Yeah.
Sylvia: That is, until it's time for me to do the dishes.
Hilary: Sylvia, let me take care of the dishes. My butler, Geoffrey, can be here in 15 minutes. [laughs]
Sylvia: How about if we do them together?
Hilary: Then what'll Geoffrey do?

Philip: Let's get the hell out of here.
Will: Oh, hey, what are we gonna tell Aunt Viv?
Philip: Will, Will, here's another very important lesson. When you have a chronic back problem and you go for a therapeutic massage and wind up in a house of ill-repute, which is subsequently raided and you are arrested by mistake... never tell your wife. Hmm? Poof.
Will: Oh, you are definitely the master. Let's go get some of them tiny onions.

Vivian: It doesn't matter whose stuffing was best it was just fun being in that kitchen together. Oh.
Aunt Helen: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Listen, I love y'all too but the bottom line is my stuffing was the best. Any fool can see that. [all groan] You tasted it. You tasted it with your own mouth. [all leave] Slaving in that- No, I was slaving in that kitchen all day. I know who I am. I don't care if y'all leave the table. Happy Thanksgiving to you too. Every man I cook for likes what I cook. That's right. I'm all right. I'm getting out of here. Hah. I'm going somewhere for Christmas. Hah.