Rebecca: You know, I really think I can put together a great Thanksgiving dinner. This'll be the second one that I've cooked, and believe me, the first one was not the disaster that my family said it was. Those kids had a pretty good time in that ambulance...
Sam: What's new, Normie?
Norm: Terrorists, Sam. They've taken over my stomach and they're demanding beer.
Sam: Woody, could you add up these receipts?
(Woody feels through the receipts)
Woody: There's eight of them, Sam.
Carla: If the Brady Bunch crashes in the Andes who would they eat first?
Woody: Well probably the maid, 'cause she's not kin..
Cliff: Yeah, but if they were smart they would ask her the best way to prepare herself.
Sam: What'll you have Normie?
Norm: Well, I'm in a gambling mood Sammy. I'll take a glass of whatever comes out of that tap.
Sam: Looks like beer, Norm.
Norm: Call me Mister Lucky....
Woody: What's going on, Mr. Peterson?
Norm: The question is what's going 'in' Mr. Peterson. A beer please, Woody...
(making a toast)
Cliff: As they say down at the post office, "here's looking up your address"...
Carla: You know Diane, you shouldn't be investing in a tanning salon, you ought to be using one. You've got skin the color of Elmer's glue....
Woody: How's it going Mr. Peterson?
Norm: It's a dog eat dog world Woody and I'm wearing Milk Bone underwear....
Lilith: Well, I'm off. I don't know what the future holds. Whatever happens, I only hope I can realize my full potential. To acquire things the old Lilith never had.
Carla: Like a body temperature?
Lilith: That's very good, Carla. Incidentally, I've taken your little wisecracks for a few years now, you hideous gargoyle, and if you ever open that gateway to hell you call a mouth in my direction again, I'll snap off your extremities like dead branches and feed them to you at gunpoint.