Beef: Listen, Philbin. There really is a phantom. He was just in my shower. He threatened my life. He said his music was just for Phoenix. Only she can sing it. Anyone else who tries, dies.
Arnold Philbin: What the hell are you talking about?
Beef: Look, Philbin. I am a professional. I have been in this business a long time. Now if I don't want to do a show, it's not because I got stage fright. It's because some creature from beyond doesn't want me to do the show. Now gangway.
Dr. Ernest D. Hubbs: You did your major work applying game theory to the language of killer whales.
James R. Lesko: Well, it seemed cheaper than applying it to roulette.
Dr. Ernest D. Hubbs: Did you actually succeed in making positive contact with the whales?
James R. Lesko: Only with the emotionally disturbed.
Dr. Ernest D. Hubbs: How were you able to determine that?
James R. Lesko: We talked.
Ruth: Harvey, I have a headache, a toothache, a backache and I'm expecting the gout.
Harvey Beckman: Would an aspirin help?
Aunt Ida: Oh, Ernie! Have another pretzel for Chrissakes! Wait 'til you meet my little Gater. You two are gonna fall right in love.
Ernie: My dear, I hope so. Are you sure he's gay?
Aunt Ida: Well I just use common sense. I mean, if they're smart they're queer, and if they're stupid they're straight, right Earnie? Are you sure you won't have another pretzel?
Ernie: I'm sure, Miss Thing, I'm sure. Pretzels give you plaque.