Roland T. Flakfizer: Dear Lillian, soon I hope to take you on a Carribbean cruise, where we can hold hands on a soft summer's evening and watch that old Jamaican moon. Why that old Jamaican will be mooning us, I have no idea.
Rocco Melonchek: We'll have to perform a full rectum-ology.
Roland T. Flakfizer: Fondue, an epidemic! drop those pants... Not you, the patient.
Doctor: I thought you were cardiologists.
Rocco Melonchek: Uh, well, they're all connected, we enter the rectum and head north.
Roland T. Flakfizer: Why do you think we have such long instruments?
Volare: Do you realise what I was doing at the age of seven?
Roland T. Flakfizer: I can imagine and you must be thankful you didn't go blind.
Volare: I was dancing professionally.
Roland T. Flakfizer: Whatever you call it. Flogging the carrot, polishing the cuestick, choking the chicken, clearing the snorkel.
Usherette: Five and six.
Roland T. Flakfizer: Eleven. Now it's your turn: twenty-five and sixty-seven.
Roland T. Flakfizer: If there's anything I can ever do for you... forget it, because I don't do those kinds of things.