- Oliver Putnam: [Enters his kitchen, slams the door before Howard can enter, and ransacks the kitchen, screaming] You're screwed, Putnam! Your dreams are dust now! Welcome to Hell, and you're own Satan!
- Oliver Putnam: [Howard gently knocks on the kitchen door, halting Oliver's tantrum] Yes?
- Howard Morris: [singing] Like a good neighbor, State Farm is there.
- Donna DeMeo: That's how musicals make money. A song so irresistible it's like a syringe that shoots from Broadway straight into the neck of Debbie from Duluth, who becomes an addict from the first second she hears it during girls' night out at the Calorie Pit. And addicts will do anything anything to get her fix, even take a middle seat on a redeye to New York City where, for the low low price of everything she's got, Debbie can have the privilege of sitting in the finest rear balcony seat in all the land to finally, finally see that show with that song she can't stop belting out all over fucking Duluth.