Charlie: Ya, best get to steppin' cause Johnny Law's a-comin'!
Dennis: Yeah, you might want to start driving because she called the cops on us.
Mac: Why's he talking like that?
Dennis: Well wildcard over here decided to lose his mind.
Charlie: Now I say, I say that's just damn preposterous, boy!
Dennis: Now you're just talking like Foghorn Leghorn!
Mac: Alrigh guys, I think it's time we just cut our losses and go back to the original plan.
Charlie: Ah, the generator!
Mac: No, not the generator! Storing the gas at Paddy's.
Charlie: Alright.
Mac: It's too soon to sell this gas anyway. Just shut the door.
Dennnis: Go go go...
Charlie: Okay okay...

Charlie: You wanna talk about stress? You wanna talk about stress?! OK! I've stumbled onto a major company conspiracy, Mac--how 'bout that for stress?
Mac: What the hell are you talking about?
Charlie: This company is being bled like a stuck pig, Mac, and I've got a paper trail to prove it. Check this out. [Goes to a wall covered in paper and string] Take a look at this.
Mac: Jesus Christ, Charlie!
Charlie: That right there is the mail. Now let's talk about the mail. Can we talk about the mail, please, Mac? I've been dying to talk about the mail with you all day, OK? "Pepe Silvia," this name keeps coming up over and over again. Every day Pepe's mail is getting sent back to me. Pepe Silvia! Pepe Silvia! I look in the mail, and this whole box is Pepe Silvia! So I say to myself, "I gotta find this guy! I gotta go up to his office and put his mail in the guy's goddamn hands! Otherwise, he's never going to get it and he's going to keep coming back down here." So I go up to Pepe's office and what do I find out, Mac? What do I find out?! There is no Pepe Silvia. The man does not exist, okay? So I decide, "Oh shit, buddy, I gotta dig a little deeper." There's no Pepe Silvia? You gotta be kidding me! I got boxes full of Pepe! All right. So I start marchin' my way down to Carol in HR and I knock on her door and I say, "Carol! Carol! I gotta talk to you about Pepe." And when I open the door what do I find? There's not a single goddamn desk in that office! There...is...no...Carol in HR. Mac, half the employees in this building have been made up. This office is a goddamn ghost town.
Mac: OK, Charlie I'm going to have to stop you right there. Not only do all of these people exist, but they've been asking for their mail on a daily basis. It's all they're talking about up there. Jesus Christ, dude, we are going to lose our jobs.
Charlie: Well, calm down because here's one thing that's not going to happen.
Mac: What?
Charlie: We're not gonna get fired.
Mac: We're not?
Charlie: Because we've already been fired.
Mac: We've lost our jobs!
Charlie: Yeah. About 3 days ago a couple pink slips came in the mail. One for you and one for me. So what did I do? I mailed them halfway to Siberia.
Mac: If we've lost our jobs, then that means we've lost our health insurance. That means all of this was for nothing! Goddammit, dude, I am having a panic attack. I am actually having a panic attack.
Charlie: Well, will you settle down and have another cup of coffee?
Mac: I am, bro.
Charlie: All right, well, fine. You know what, Barney? Give this guy a cigarette, he's freakin' out. [turns to a man in black trench coat and hat standing next to him]
Mac: Huh? Who?
Charlie: Barney. He's the one who tipped me off to Pepe Silvia.
Mac: Barney? Who the hell is Barney?
Charlie: You don't see the...[Looks around and Barney's disappeared] Holy shit! Where the hell did he go? [Yello's "Oh Yeah" comes on in the background] Day Bow Bow.
Mac: You've lost your mind! You've lost your goddamned mind, Charlie. [Cha. Chika-chika!]

Dee: [aiming a gun at a pumpkin on Frank's head] Ready?
Frank: Yes.
Dee: All right.
Frank: Shoot!
Dee: One, two, three..
Charlie: [comes running in] Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Do not shoot that pumpkin! What are you doing!?
Frank: I stole a bunch of guns! I'm testing them out, Charles! This revolution is gonna make us a fortune!
Charlie: All right, well, leave the pumpkin out of it, the pumpkin's innocent.
Frank: Shoot the pumpkin.
Charlie: Do not shoot the pumpkin, please.
Dee: OK.
Charlie: Gimme the gun.
Dee: Fine.
Charlie: Why is the witch slave shooting at you, anyway?
Frank: Maybe she used her sorcery.
Dee: Sorcery?! Your dumb dick partner walked into the bar, said he stole a bunch of guns, and asked if I wanted to shoot a pumpkin off his head. Of course I did, so here we are.
Frank: Damn your necromancy, woman!
Dee: Oh my God!
Charlie: Maybe if we shoot you, you won't feel it anyway, witch.
Dee: You know what? OK, you guys. I tell you what, you win! I'm a witch, OK? I'm a witch and I curse both of you and all of your stupid guns!
Charlie: [points gun at Dee and pulls trigger but gun malfunctions]
Dee: Charlie! Goddammit! [storms off]
Frank: Gimme that gun!
Charlie: She cursed the gun!
Frank: [aims at the door Dee walked through and pulls trigger] She put a curse on the gun!
Charlie: [pulls out another gun] Let's try this one. [aims at Frank and pulls trigger]
Frank: Nothin'!
Charlie: Try me! [strikes a pose]
Frank: [pulls trigger but still nothing happens]

Dee: Also I wrote a song and I'm gonna throw it in there.
Charlie: I swear to god if you do that I'll-
Dee: Too bad, its gonnnnaaa happen! Its gonna happen!
Charlie: I will smack your face, off of your face!!
Dee: Ok.
Season 5

Dee: Charlie, don't screw me like this, come on.
Charlie: Don't screw you? Oh, I'm sorry, Dee, let me try and remember something. Let's see, was it, did Dee write a musical and come to Charlie with it? No! Charlie wrote a musical and came to Dee with it, and the gang. And the gang likes to screw it up and make it about themselves, and take it away from Charlie, and ruin his hopes and dreams. So let me tell you something, Dee, let me break down a scenario for you. I could cut the song, OK, because I wrote it. I could have Artemis do the song, OK, because you did not write it. Or I could strap on a wig and I could do the song myself. So you tell me, Little Miss All That, what do you want to do? Song or no song?

Dee: If I had to write an article about you, it would say that you're very negative. The headline might be "Most Negative Man in the World Calls Other People White Trash to Make Himself Not Feel So Faggy."

Dennis: Alright, well just let me do the talking.
Charlie: Well, I feel like you got to at least talk with a southern accent, man. [rings doorbell]
Dennis: No, I'm not going to talk in a southern accent. It's bad enough that you wore this stupid "disguise."
Charlie: But we're oil men! We would have southern accents.
Dennis: Yeah, but we don't need bolo ties and stupid hats...
Charlie: Yes, we do! She's gonna...
[front door answered]

Dennis: Hello ma'am. Well, uh, what a lovely house dress.
Charlie: Yeah, well you're lookin' all sorts o' good!
Dennis: Now, you seem like a sweet, sophisticated, nice, busy young lady so we're not going to waste your time today.
Charlie: Nah, we're just a couple oil men in from Dallas and well, heh, we're itching like a hound to give you ah somethin' you want.
Dennis: Heh, what my associate is trying to say is that we're here to offer your community a much needed service...
Charlie: Hells yeah! We want to fill you up if you so inclined to let us.
Dennis: Please let me do the talking. Please.
Charlie: Now, we ain't gonna take no for an answer now you here, heh. Okay? So don't be making me sick my associate on your here, alright? He don't take kindly to no. So, can I fill you up or what?
[rushing into the van]

Dennis: Um, okay well, I guess this is probably...is probably gonna be it so we should get started. Um, what to say about Mac. Umm...he certainly was...angry.
Frank: Burn the duster!
Dennis: Hey, I'm not burning the duster! Okay, I'm not burning the duster. Alright. That's crazy. That's like...that's insane. Why would I ever burn...heh...I mean c'mon...I will continue to wear it in his honor and I will burn some other things. You know, maybe like these stupid god damn sleeveless t-shirts that he wants "retired" and hung up in the bar. I'll burn these, but I am not burning the duster. Okay? So forget it. It probably won't even burn anyway. It's not supposed to, it's flame retardant. That's like the whole point. It's like a shield of armor. So stop asking me to burn the duster! I'm not going to burn it! So...end of story, you know? Let's just move on. Okay? So...yeah, alright, well uh thank you.

Dennis: [After finding out he was hallucinating about Sinbad and Rob Thomas] Ah, I should see a doctor I'm really messed up.
Sinbad: [Hallucination form] Psst! No your not, bitch!

Dennis: All right, just sign this paper saying that we didn't kidnap you at all, and you can be on your way with all of our stuff.
[Charlie hits him over the head with a beer bottle]
Mac: DUDE! Why did you do that?
Charlie: I really don't like this guy!

Dennis: Dude, do you have a boner right now?!

Dennis: Is this supposed to be dirt? it smells like shit!
Frank: It is shit! Its a barnyard!
Dennis: Frank, nobody is gonna step in shit!
(Rex already in the pool full of shit)

Dennis: My nose was chiseled by the gods themselves, Frank. My body was sculpted to the proportions of Michelangelo's David. You, on the other hand, well, you're a pit of despair. Frank, you disgust me. You disgust everyone, and you will never EVER be on that billboard.

Dennis: Seriously Rex? You're just gonna step right in there?
Rex: I wanna win bro, billboard.