Simon Ferguson: Yorgo, am I wrong, or does this radish look like me?
Yorgo Galfanikos: You are not wrong. I hand carved each one in your likeness. Go on, eat your face. Eat your face!
Simon Ferguson: Yorgo, I'm not going to kill your brother.
Yorgo Galfanikos: But... I picked up your dry cleaning.
Simon Ferguson: Well, and some day I'll pick up yours, and then we'll be even.
Yorgo Galfanikos: [shouting] oh, how lame is that?
Simon Ferguson: Well actually, I wouldn't mind you killing my agent. And I think we're all a little tired of those Spice Girls.
Simon Ferguson: You're lucky you're my only ex-wife with a hotel, or I'd be outta here!
Simon Ferguson: Do you happen to remember the monologue I did for my final exam?
Nigel Thomas: Hoho, how could I not? You were the only one who charged admission and sold posters of yourself.
Simon Ferguson: Well, I had to charge admission to pay for the posters.