Dallas

Bobby: We should also toast to the people who aren't here: Mama, Clayton, Gary, and Ray. J.R.: Oh, c'mon, Bobby, Ray's not really family. James: Who's he? J.R.: Daddy's big mistake... a half-breed, born on the wrong side of the blanket.

J.R.: Oh, Michelle, we meet again. Michelle: Will you really pay a small fortune to get Cliff out of Ewing Oil? J.R.: That's probably the most serious offer I've ever made in my whole life. Michelle: Then it's Michelle with two L's. J.R.: What? Michelle: I want to make sure you spell my name right on that huge check you're going to be writing me.

J.R.: Oh, James, there is a God after all, and he's smiling down on ol' J.R. right now.

Bobby: A Weststar supertanker... that's millions of barrels of oil. J.R.: (laughing) Oh, that's a damn shame. Bobby: It's not funny, J.R. Do you know what that's going to do to the Texas coastline, not to mention the pollution in the Gulf? J.R.: Well, what's a few dead duck? Didn't you hear? McKay's tanker—a McKay tanker—Bobby. Hell, this day is turning out to better than I thought it would.

Cliff: Now, wait a minute, pal. I'm a better oil man than you are... and Bobby and your precious daddy all put together. I've heard about you sweating bullets over this Shaughnessy deal. Hell, you can't make a simple sale without screwing it up. J.R.: The only thing screwed up in this office is your head, which I'd be very happy to serve on a silver platter for dinner tonight if I wasn't afraid of giving my whole family food poisoning.

J.R.: Well, speak of the Devil. I was just about to auction off your furniture, not that we'd get a whole hell of a lot for those garage sale items. Cliff: Well, that wouldn't solve anything. My office would still be bigger than yours. J.R.: Which matches the size of your head, which is much too big for your brain.

Bobby: If I were running your life, you'd spend a hell of a lot more time at the office. Cliff: I'd spend a hell of a lot more time at the office if it was a more pleasant place to be. Bobby: It's not a health spa, Cliff. What do you want, a palm tree and a piña colada?

Bobby: Cliff, let's not get into this now, okay? Let's just pick up our dates and go our separate ways. Cliff: I think that's a good idea. Why don't you tell me what restaurant you're going to so I can be sure to avoid it. April: Don't worry, it's not Chinese.