The One with the Race Car Bed

Friends 3×7

Rachel: ... Okay, Daddy. We'll see you tomorrow night. Okay, bye-bye.
Ross: "We"?
Rachel: Ahem. Are, uh, having dinner with my dad tomorrow night. I hope that's okay.
Ross: Oh, shoot. Tomorrow's not good. I'm supposed to, um, fall off the Empire State Building... and land on a bicycle with no seat, so...
Rachel: Ross, my father doesn't hate you.
Ross: Please. He refers to me as "Wet-Head."

Dr. Green: You think I'm cheap?
Rachel: He didn't mean anything by that. He really didn't.
Ross: Nothing I do means anything. Really.
Dr. Green: This is nice. I pay $200 for dinner. You put down 20 and you come out looking like Mr. Big-Shot. You really wanna be Mr. Big-Shot? Here. I'll tell you what. You pay the whole bill, Mr. Big-Shot. All right?
Ross: Well, "Mr. Big-Shot" is better than "Wet-Head."

Joey: Okay, some tricks of the trade. Now, I've never been able to cry as an actor... so if I'm in a scene where I have to cry... I cut a hole in my pocket... take a pair of tweezers... and just start pulling.
     Or uh... Or let's say I want to convey... that I've, uh, just done something evil. Well, that would be your basic I've-got-a fish-hook-in-my-eyebrow-and-I-like-it.
     Okay. Let's say I've just gotten bad news. Well, all I do there is try and divide 232 by 13..... And that's how it's done.

Ross: Ugh.
Rachel: Would you see my chiropractor already?
Ross: Yeah, I'm gonna go to a doctor who went to medical school in a mini-mall.

Chandler: Knock, knock.
Phoebe: Quick. Take off your dress. He won't notice the bed.

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