The Calzone

I love when the car place puts that paper mat on the floor. Like they're so obsessed with cleanliness. They don't even want their shoes to touch the carpet. The mechanic comes out, he looks like Al Jolson. He's covered in goo from head to toe. You can't even see him.

I prefer that to when they have the lab coat, the clipboard, the glasses. Now you know you're getting screwed. 'Can I see it?' 'You better not. It's idling quietly right now. I think it should stay overnight. We want to keep an eye on it, and want to keep the bill running up.'

Tell the players that I reimbursed the trainer... for the cigarettes and shakes. -The players will be reimbursed? -The trainer.

This is the third time I've had to repeat myself. -Sorry. -Sorry doesn't cut it. We're running a ball club here, George. You've got to pay attention.

Let me-- Let me think here.

The Peace Corps gave me my start in this business. Clothing the naked natives of Bangtubesh. The Pygmy pullover.

To me, they capture that indefinable romance that was Camelot. -Whatever.

So he walks out of the stall. He's been talking the whole time. -He pulled an LBJ on you. -LBJ? Lyndon Johnson used to do that to his staffers.

He'd hold national security meetings in there. He planned the Hanoi bombing after a bad Thai meal.

Ask him to repeat it. Tell him there was an echo. -I can't. He's been on me about not paying attention. It's too late. I already told him I heard him.

Oh, the steering wheel fell off. I don't know where it is.

Well, I'm not paying the 5 cents for that stupid recycling thing. -You don't pay 5 cents. You get 5 cents back.

Well, what do you think the hobos are doing? -I don't know. They're deranged.

Wait a minute, you mean you get 5 cents here and 10 cents there? You could round up bottles and run them to Michigan.

You overload your inventory, and you blow your margins on gasoline.

You tried it? -Oh, yeah. Every which way. Couldn't crunch the numbers. It drove me crazy.

Sue Ellen Mischke, the braless, Oh Henry! candy bar heiress.

Come to catch a glimpse of high society? -No, no, I'm actually here to bid, Sue Ellen. I mean, that is if anything's to my liking. -I'm here to catch a glimpse of high society.

No, an 18-wheeler's no good. Too much overhead. You got permits, weigh stations, tolls. Look, you're way out of your league.

...as seen in the famous photo of the president chipping at Burning Tree on the morning of the Bay of Pigs Invasion.

Ten thousand to the shapely woman on the left.

Oh, you idiots!

The AAA guy said I was close to sucking a muffin down the carburettor.

I remember this car. Beautiful car.

Have I been picking at it? No, you know, it's just wear and tear. -Wear and tear, I see.

Fifty-one percent of all turns are right turns.

Certainly not some stuck-up candy-bar heiress who flaunts herself in public without regard--

So I was just wondering... what do you think would be the very best way to get started?

Payroll!

He'll tell you what I'm doing here. Then you can tell me.

Look, you were right, I was wrong. You don't have to humiliate me about it.

Wait a second. Mother's Day.

The mother of all mail days.

Newman, you magnificent bastard, you did it!

There's your answer, 'Downtown.' The song 'Downtown'? The Petula Clark song?

Little places to go that never close. What little place never closes? -7-Eleven. -Maybe.

Well, don't hang around and let your troubles surround you.

Motor oil is the lifeblood of a car. You put in a low-grade oil, you can damage vital engine parts.

The washer fluid is not fine!

Well, I didn't count on my mechanic pulling a Mary Beth Whitehead, did I?

The mechanic forms an emotional attachment... thinks he's gonna lose the car. He panics and does something rash.

What does it matter? It's my car. I can do whatever I want with it. Not that I would think of doing such things.

Jimmy crack corn and I don't care.

The gardener did a nice job planting the rose bushes, didn't he, dear? -You planted the rose bushes, dear. -I did? -Yesterday. You remember. -That's right.

9999 bottles and cans in the truck... At $0.10 a bottle and $0.10 a can We're pulling in $500 a man

That registration may have your name on it, Jerry... but this engine's running on my sweat and my blood.

We're right on this guy like stink on a monkey.

Bottles below!

My brother-in-law was there. Man was obsessed with lactating women. They cured him. Although he eats a lot of cheese.

I didn't do it! It just got done! I don't know how it got done but it did!

I just have one rule. Keep your hands off my daughter.

You'll have to do a lot better than that!

No, Daddy, you'll hurt him. I love him. Goodbye, Norman! Goodbye!

Oh, yeah. The only thing worse was his slice.