Cheers

SAM: What's new, Normie?
NORM: Terrorists, Sam. They've taken over my stomach and they're
demanding beer.-- Cheers

SAM: What'd you like, Normie?
NORM: A reason to live. Give me another beer.-- Cheers

SAM: What'll you have Normie?
NORM: Well, I'm in a gambling mood, Sammy. I'll take a glass of
whatever comes out of that tap.
SAM: Looks like beer, Norm.
NORM: Call me Mister Lucky.-- Cheers

WOODY: What's the story, Mr. Peterson?
NORM: The Bobbsey twins go to the brewery. Let's cut to the happy
ending.-- Cheers

WOODY: Hey, Mr. Peterson, there's a cold one waiting for you.
NORM: I know. If she calls, I'm not here.-- Cheers

WOODY: How's it going, Mr. Peterson?
NORM: Poor.
WOODY: I'm sorry to hear that.
NORM: No, I mean pour.-- Cheers

WOODY: Pour you a beer, Mr. Peterson?
NORM: All right, but stop me at one. Make that one-thirty.-- Cheers

WOODY: What's going on, Mr. Peterson?
NORM: The question is what's going in Mr. Peterson? A beer please,
Woody.-- Cheers

WOODY: How would a beer feel, Mr. Peterson?
NORM: Pretty nervous if I was in the room.-- Cheers

WOODY: Hey, Mr. Peterson, what's up?
NORM: The warranty on my liver.-- Cheers

SAM: What do you say, Norm?
NORM: Any cheap, tawdry thing that'll get me a beer.-- Cheers

COACH: What would you say to a beer, Normie?
NORM: Daddy wuvs you.-- Cheers

SAM: What do you know there, Norm?
NORM: How to sit. How to drink. Want to quiz me?-- Cheers

COACH: Can I draw you a beer, Norm?
NORM: No, I know what they look like. Just pour me one.-- Cheers

CLIFF: Hey, Norm, What's up?
NORM: My blood-alcohol level.-- Cheers