Laughter on the 23rd Floor
2001 (TV)
Lucas: My name is Lucas. Milt: Not Arnie? Lucas: No, Lucas. Milt: Too Late. I already learned Arnie.
(Re: Max's health) Val: God forgive me for saying this word: Nervous breakdown! Milt: That's two words. God will never forgive you!
Max: If I die, bill the funeral to NBC. Fuck 'em!
Max: I have to look good for a heart attack?
Carol: I'm trying to get pregnant. Brian: Ask your husband. Why should we do everything?
Carol: I took English and Biology in college and now I have no use for either of them.
Val: If you're a Jew, you end up in the desert no matter what.
(At his mother's grave) Max: Ma, have you given any thought to moving next to Pop? I think he really misses you. You wouldn't have to talk to him. I think he just wants to lie next to you. It's cold over there. He doesn't have the sun like you. (Listens) Okay. Harry: What'd she say? Max: She wants to sleep on it.
Kenny: Pills and scotch don't mix, Max... or Max mix... however you want to say it.
Val: Max has been very paranoid lately. Has anyone noticed? Brian: Isn't it impolite to watch someone being paranoid?
(With a thick Russian accent) Val: Go feck yourself. Milt: There's no such word as feck. A person cannot go feck themselves. You cannot be an American citizen until you learn to say "Go fuck yourself." Val: Kiss my Naturalization papers.
Val: My dog dreams funnier than you. Milt: My dog can say, "Fucking pumpernickel."
Carol: I'm pregnant. Kenny: Mazel-thov! Carol: Thank you, Kenny. Kenny: No I was suggesting a name.
Max: All I'm saying is, sometimes you gotta take a stand against the bastards.
Max: I just didn't want to say goodbye tonight... no goodbyes.
(Ira has written "I Have A Brain Tumor" on the wall) Max: Is that gonna wash off? Ira: Don't you care what might happen to me. Max: First let's discuss what happened to my wall. Is that gonna wash off? Ira: I don't think so. It's a permanent marker. Max: If that doesn't wash off, you will DEFINITELY have a brain tumor.
Carol: You wrote on the wall with an indelible marker? A mother would drown her own child for doing that!
Max: I want to hit something else. Something big, expensive. Milt: There's a bank across the street, Max.
Carol: Since when has anyone here noticed I'm a woman? Val: I noticed it when you first came to work here. You never used the men's john.
Max: The lines are too clogged with urbane-ament.
Brian: In thirty years, these guys'll be writing game shows and I'll be the Preisdent of M-G-M, screwing Lana Turner. Milt: When she's sixty-two? Why?
Brian: The game is funny names. Ira: You against me? Where's the challenge? You can have all the other writers. Carol: Why do I want children? Look what they become. Val: All right. Let's get this over with. What's the bet? Ira: Shoes! We're playing for shoes. (They take off their shoes) My seventy dollar aligators against his Irish clogs after 15 St. Patrick's Day parades. Val: Aaaaaand... Go! Brian: Rabbi John Wayne. Writers: Eh. Ira: The Count of Monte through Friday. Writers: Oooh! Brian: Ira Chuvney. Ira: Ira Chuvney. That's my name. What's funny about that. Brian: Nothing. NOTHING IS FUNNY ABOUT IRA CHUVNEY! Writers: (Applaud)
Max: I don't know who I hate most: McCarthy or Lawrence Welk.
(NBC plans on putting a "spy/observer" onto Max's show) Max: If he's REALLY observant, he's gonna observe me getting upset! And then he's gonna observe me very quietly, and very politely, putting my fist through his fucking face! (Max then punches a hole in the wall)
(About Max) Brian: He called me last night. Said something about we're going to war again. Val: With the Japanese? Brian: I don't know, depends on how Japanese NBC is.
Val: You think it's funny that Max called me at 12 AM midnight? Milt: Only when you say it.