The Suicide

Jerry:And they want you to give them a urine sample. So you go into the bathroom, you're in there alone, and you're supposed to fill up this little cup. It's like, how much do they need? Why do they need so much? And it's always this tiny cup too, so you're there like you're trying to land a plane in a cup.

Jerry:You go to the doctor, they say 'We need a urine sample.' So you give it to them. Then they say 'We're gonna need a little more.' A little more? What do you think I'm holdin' here? Why would I keep holdin' it? 'Oh, I got plenty more where that came from!' No one's ever excited to give more urine. 'Oh, you need more? Great! I got a whole gallon in the car!'

Jerry:You know what's crazy? Going to the doctor for a physical. They make you do all these tests, and you're competing against yourself. Like, 'Oh, my cholesterol is down!' You're happy about it. But then next year, 'Oh no, it went up!' Like you lost. Like you failed a grade in cholesterol.

Jerry:I'm sitting in there, and the doctor's like, 'Can you hear this?' And I'm like, 'Yeah, I hear it.' But what I'm really thinking is, I could hear that from the parking lot. I could hear that from my apartment. I could hear that before you even turned the machine on.

Jerry:So he keeps going lower and lower with the sounds, right? And I'm just nodding like, 'Oh yeah, yeah, I got that one too.' Finally he gets to this sound that's so quiet, it's like a thought. It's like someone thinking about a sound in another room.

Jerry:So now the government's involved. They're like, 'We need to study this. We need to understand how this works.' And I'm thinking, 'No, no, no. This is MY superhearing. You can't have it.'

Jerry:But of course they get involved. They always do. Next thing you know, I'm in some lab, wearing electrodes on my head, and they're making me listen to things. 'Tell us what you hear, Mr. Seinfeld. Can you hear the ant?'

Jerry:I'm like, 'I'm Superman, not Ant-Man. I don't hear ants!'

Jerry:And then the President calls me into the Oval Office. He says, 'We need you. We need your superhearing to detect terrorist threats.' And I'm like, 'Mr. President, I appreciate it, but I can barely hear my own thoughts over the sound of my neighbor's shower.'

Jerry:You can't name your kid after a notorious historical figure. Like, you can't name your son Adolf. But then again, if you did, that kid's gonna have to beat up every other kid in school just to clear his name.

George:Why would you even ask me that?

Elaine:Have you ever fasted?

Jerry:Well, I called a late dinner 'fasting' once. It was rough.

Jerry:Kramer, can you throw out the garbage?

Kramer:That'll be fifty bucks.

Jerry:What? You're charging me to throw out my own garbage?

Kramer:That's my rate now. I'm a professional garbage consultant.

Jerry:I'll give you 50 cents to take out the garbage.

Kramer:Fifty cents? That's it? I don't think so. A dollar.

Jerry:A dollar? For taking out the garbage?

Kramer:That's my price. Take it or leave it.

Kramer:Fifty cents? You can't get a cake for fifty cents!

Jerry:You need a vacation? From what?

George:I need to get away.

Jerry:You don't have a job. What do you need a vacation from? You're always on vacation!

Jerry:I don't do nonrefundable deals. It's like when you book a flight and you realize you might not want to go. With airlines, they've got you. But with a relationship? I need to know I can get out at any time.

Gina:Wait, you're telling me Drake's Coffee Cake costs HOW much?! I can't believe this! My whole world is falling apart! Do you know what this means? This means everything I've built, everything I've worked for... it's all been a LIE!

George:I had this dream last night. I'm at the Comedy Cellar, right? And Martin Short is there performing. But he's doing my material. My jokes! And everyone's laughing hysterically. I'm sitting in the back, nobody knows who I am. Martin Short is killing with my stuff.

George:So I stand up, I yell 'Those are my jokes!' And Martin Short stops, looks at me, and says 'No they're not.' And the whole audience turns around and boos me. They start chanting 'Martin! Martin! Martin!'

George:Then—and this is the crazy part—Martin Short walks over to me, shakes my hand, and says 'Thanks for the material, pal.' And I'm so humiliated I just leave. I walk out of the club and I'm on the street, and I realize I'm naked.

George:It's a nightmare. The stage is like three feet high, the crowd's right on top of you, heckling is relentless, the sound system is shot, and there's always some drunk guy in the front row.

Jerry:Oh, I played there.

George:I knew I was going to be bald. I could just feel it.

Jerry:How could you feel it?

George:I don't know, I just had a sense about it.

Jerry:Your mother's not bald.

George:No, but my father is.

Jerry:So you have a fifty-fifty shot. That's not a premonition, that's a coin flip.

George:Well, I knew it was going to be me.

Jerry:How? How could you possibly know that?

George:I'm telling you, I just knew.

Jerry:Did your mother's father have hair?

George:Yeah.

Jerry:Did your father's father have hair?

George:No.

Jerry:So you're telling me your father's father was bald, your father is bald, and somehow you're the only one who could read this in the tea leaves?

George:I'm very intuitive.

George:I wonder what Gandhi ate before he started fasting.

Jerry:Crackers.

George:Crackers?

Jerry:Yeah, he ate a big box of crackers right before he fasted. That's historical fact.

Jerry:You know, Martin's been in a coma for three weeks now. That's a pretty good coma. I mean, it's no Karen Ann Quinlan, but it's solid.

Jerry:Martin hates me so much, he's got opinions about my whole existence.

Gina:What kind of opinions?

Jerry:He doesn't just hate me as a person. He hates my croissants. He says they're too buttery, too flaky, they shed crumbs all over his shirt.

Gina:It's just a croissant.

Jerry:Not to Martin. To Martin, it's a personal attack. He's got a whole manifesto about my baking technique.

Gina:I wish Martin wasn't in a coma. Actually, no — I wish he was dead. No wait, I wish I could kill him myself.

Gina:You didn't even try to kiss me.

Jerry:I was going to, but then I thought about it, and I realized - you were in a coma. You can't give consent when you're in a coma. It's not right.

Gina:I came out of the coma!

Jerry:Yeah, but the coma was still fresh. The coma deserves respect. You don't just jump all over someone the second they wake up from a coma. That's coma etiquette.

Jerry:You know, I have a philosophy about coma patients. I think they deserve respect. Just because you're in a coma doesn't mean you're not still you. You're still a person with dignity.

Jerry:So I think we should treat coma patients like we'd treat anyone else. Evaluate their performance, give them feedback, maybe a performance review.

Jerry:"Well, your unconsciousness is really coming along nicely, but we're going to need you to work on your responsiveness. The drooling is acceptable, but we need more eye movement."

George:You know, suicide machines are all well and good, but sometimes you want to go the traditional route. You know, like a nice rope, or pills, or... I don't know, throwing yourself in front of a bus.

Kramer:You gotta have a rule. You can't just take things. There's gotta be a waiting period. Like, after a guy goes into a coma, you gotta wait 24 hours before you can take his stuff.

Jerry:That's your rule?

Kramer:Yeah, it's like a land rush. When the coma bell rings, you can go in and grab what you want.

Rula:Who is Pauline?

Jerry:Pauline? I don't know any Pauline.

Rula:She says you do.

Jerry:Well, she's wrong. There's no Pauline.

George:Maybe it's a spirit that's been following you.

Jerry:A spirit? What are you talking about?

George:My cousin had the same thing. Turned out to be a poltergeist that was making his hair fall out.

Jerry:George, you don't have any hair to fall out.

George:That's because the poltergeist got to me first!

Jerry:You know, I'm thinking about getting my psychic license. I could test people - I'd hide a check somewhere, and if they're a real psychic, they should be able to find it.

George:A check? What if they stop you before you hide it?

Jerry:Then they're not a psychic, they're just observant.

Gina:That toothbrush is disgusting.

Jerry:Disgusting? This toothbrush has been with me through thick and thin. It's loyal, dependable, and it gets the job done.

Jerry:I'd run like a mouse. I'd be out of there so fast, I'd leave a mouse-shaped hole in the wall like the Roadrunner. The Three Stooges would be like, 'Whoa, whoa, whoa, that's too fast!'

George:I can't eat fruit. I'm lactose intolerant.

Jerry:Fruit doesn't have lactose.

George:I know, but I can't digest it. It comes right through me. You should see the toilet.

Elaine:Carpet sweepers are not a scam! They work great.

Jerry:They don't work. You push them around and nothing happens.

Elaine:That's because you don't know how to use them. You have to have the right technique.

Jerry:Technique? It's a carpet sweeper, not a sport.

Elaine:Well, carpet sweepers are right up there with dry cleaning. Two of the biggest scams in America.

Newman:Look at the size of this thing! It's not a cake, it's a CAKE. This isn't a snack, this is a commitment. You don't eat this cake, you schedule time off work to eat this cake. This cake comes with its own zip code.

Newman:No! This is my cake. I don't share my food with anyone. That's my policy.

Newman:You see, I have a very strict food hoarding protocol. Everything I have is mine, and nothing is yours.

Newman:This cake is a Laurens-Strauss original. It's a one-of-a-kind creation. I'm not gonna just slice it up and pass it around like it's some Sara Lee.

Jerry:It's a cake, Newman. It's supposed to be eaten.

Newman:Not this cake. This cake is art. You don't eat art.

Jerry:She named him Rasputin.

Jerry:Why do people give up on suicide after one failed attempt? If at first you don't succeed, shouldn't you keep trying?

Jerry:You know, if you're going to do it, you gotta commit. You can't just half-ass it. That's like anything else in life. You want to lose weight? You gotta stick with it. You want to learn guitar? Practice every day. You want to kill yourself? Same thing—you gotta follow through. Don't give up after the first attempt. Maybe you weren't holding the rope right. Maybe you need a better chair. Learn from your mistakes. Adjust your technique. And hey, if at first you don't succeed... well, you know the rest. You got this!