- Harry Stone: Cleaver, you may be younger, you may be faster, you may even be smarter. But you will NEVER, EVER, be crazier... than me.
- [Cleaver challenges Harry to a battle of pranks, but Harry demurs]
- Mac: Sir, I cannot believe you didn't take the challenge!
- Roz Russell: Where is your pride?
- Christine Sullivan: Rip his guts out and use 'em for garters, sir!
- [off their looks]
- Christine Sullivan: Metaphorically speaking, Your Honor.
- Harry Stone: Don't you guys understand? I-I don't want to beat Cleaver. I just want to spend my few remaining years in... peaceful contemplation.
- [beeping]
- Harry Stone: What's that?
- Roz Russell: It's coming from Cleaver's briefcase.
- [Harry pops open the briefcase and peeks inside... and a spring hand pops out, hitting him in the face with a pie. Harry looks up, and slowly rises to his feet, his face still covered with whipped cream]
- Harry Stone: I'M GONNA *WASTE* THE SUCKER!
- [cheering]
- [after Cleaver challenges Stone to a final duel of pranks]
- Mac: Sir, I don't like this.
- Christine Sullivan: I don't either, sir.
- Harry Stone: Oh, come on now, what's the worst that could possibly happen?
- Dan Fielding: AAH!
- [Dan runs down the hallway, chased by a giant, Indiana-Jones size eight ball. He runs out of view - CRASH!]
- Roz Russell: [winces, but] It's okay, the motorcycle gang broke his fall.
- Dan Fielding: AAH!
- [Dan flees back up the hallway, pursued by the motorcycle gang]