Ricky: It went great. The mood was just right. I arranged a nice meal for them, a strolling violinist, and before I could ask if they wanted any bacon bits in their salad, they were kissing.
Derek: Was it French style?
Derek: I mean the salad dressing.
Derek: Listen, I, uh, I fixed your lawnmower for you.
Ricky: Thanks, but I didn't know it was broken.
Derek: Oh, well, it wasn't till I accidentally ran over your morning paper. I'm sorry.
Ricky: Derek, I know what they're gonna put on your gravestone. "Here lies Derek Taylor, by popular demand."
Edward: (thinking to himself) Look at them. Smiling at each other. She's probably doing that just to get to me. Well, it won't work.
(Bob puts his arm around Kate)
Edward: (thinking to himself) It's starting to work.
Bob: What's your name, scooter?
Ricky: My name is Rick.
Bob: Rick. That's a great name, scooter.
Kate: Uh, Bob is an airline pilot.
Ricky: Really? Which airline?
Bob Uh, Pam Ann.
Ricky: You mean Pan Am?
Bob: No, Pam and Ann. Those are the gals that own the plane.
Edward: Danish. Is that name...Danish?
Bob: No, I'm from Michigan.