SAM: "What's new, Normie?"
NORM: "Terrorists, Sam. They've taken over my stomach & they're demanding beer."

SAM: "What'd you like, Normie?"
NORM: "A reason to live. Give me another beer."

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 the story, Mr. Peterson?"
NORM: "The Bobbsey twins go to the brewery. Let's cut to the happy ending."

WOODY: "Hey, Mr. Peterson, there's a cold one waiting for you."
NORM: "I know. If she calls, I'm not here."

SAM: "Beer, Norm?"
NORM: "Have I gotten that predictable? Good."

WOODY: "How's it going, Mr. Peterson?"
NORM: "Poor."
WOODY: "I'm sorry to hear that."
NORM: "No, I mean pour."

SAM: "What's going down, Normie?"
NORM: "My butt cheeks on that bar stool."

WOODY: "Pour you a beer, Mr. Peterson?"
NORM: "All right, but stop me at one. Make that one-thirty."

SAM: "What's the story, Norm?"
NORM: "Boy meets beer. Boy drinks beer. Boy meets another beer."

WOODY: "What's going on, Mr. Peterson?"
NORM: "The question is what's going in Mr. Peterson? A beer please, Woody."

WOODY: "Can I pour you a beer, Mr. Peterson?"
NORM: "A little early isn't it, Woody?"
WOODY: "For a beer?"
NORM: "No, for stupid questions."