Guy: This guy here is dead.
Rachel: Then cross him off the list then.

Cerrano: Hats for bats.
Dorn: Yeah. What's your handicap?
Cerrano: Keep bat warm. Gracious.

Willie: Shit, I've been cut already?

Willie: What language is this?
Jac: French.
Rick: Do they got chilly dogs on yours?

Harry: Vaghan a juvenial deliquent in the off season.

Willie: We should of got the live chicken.

Rachel: Sit down Charlie.
Charlie: Phhhhhhhhhhh

Hayes: Vaughn, get the stewardess. I need one of those bags.
Vaughn: There aren't any stewardesses.
Hayes: Oh! I wonder if they are any pilots.

Harry: In case you haven't noticed, and judging by the attendance you haven't, the Indians have managed to win a few ball games, and are threatening to climb out of the cellar.

Jake: I'm with the Indians.
Woman at Party: Here, in Cleveland? I didn't know we still had a team!
Jake: Yeah, we've got uniforms and everything. It's really great.

Hayes: The American Express Card. Don't steal home without it.

Jake: That's my wife...
Hays: Does she know that?
Jake: Well, she would've been if I hadn't screwed it up... and what's she doing with that guy?
Vaughn: Want me to drag him out of here, kick the shit out of him?

Hayes: I'm Willie Mays Hayes. I hit like Mays, and I run like Hayes.
Lou Brown: Well, you may run like Mays, but you hit like shit.

Charlie: Vaughn's been looking good out there today.
Rachel: Don't worry, he'll blow it.

Harry: Remember, fans, Tuesday is Die Hard Night. Free admission for anyone who was actually alive the last time the Indians won the pennant.