Happy Days, Season 2

Richie:
Now we're gonna do what we came up here to do: neck.

Gloria:
Oh, anything you say, Richie.

[They begin to kiss when the alarm clock goes off, signaling that Gloria must go home]

Gloria:
Maybe we'll have time for a goodnight kiss at my door.

Richie:
The story of my life is kissing at the door.

Potsie:
This girl's got potential. I took her to the drive-in the other night, and she's still talking to me.

Howard:
Considering everything that's happened, why don't you go paint the car red again?

Richie:
Thanks, Dad, that'll be terrific.

Howard:
But no "Love Bandit!" Your mother may be driving it.

Richie:
Fonzie, did your family ever have a second car?

Fonzie:
Nope. But we got four motorcycles. We even got a sidecar for my grandma.

Fonzie:
I went out with a girl like that once. Broke up with her in two and a half minutes.

Richie:
How did you do it?

Fonzie:
Well, I wrote a note and threw it through her window. Of course, it was wrapped in a brick.

Richie:
She said she'd do something desperate.

Ralph:
How desperate can you get in a ladies' room?

Richie:
Do you know what's in a ladies' room?

Ralph:
No, do you?

Ralph:
I really dig intellectual girls, especially that one. I love the way her mind fills her sweater.

Marion:
No one on my side of the family ever went to a psychiatrist.

Howard:
Well, my side of the family is perfectly normal, Marion. I mean, they don't even have to read Dear Abby.

Marion:
What about your Aunt Louise who lives in a bomb shelter?

Howard:
When the big one drops, who'll be crazy then?

Joanie:
[after Richie rushes out of the Simpson house] You really look scared, Richie.

Richie:
I am not. Don't be ridiculous. I just want to get home. I'm hungry.

Joanie:
You'll have a hard time eating with your heart in your throat, Richie.

Richie:
Ha, ha, ha.

Fonzie:
You got nothing to fear but fear itself.

Richie:
Didn't somebody else say that?

Fonzie:
Well, if they did, they got it from the Fonz.

Potsie:
Now, I'm desperate. Can't you set me up, Ralph?

Ralph:
Oh, sure. I got a great girl for you.

Potsie:
Who?

Ralph:
Her name's Marlene.

Potsie:
What if she has a date?

Ralph:
Who would date Marlene?

Richie:
What's going on with Joanie? Yesterday, all she cared about was who was gonna pay for the popcorn, and, now, she's talking about necking.

Howard:
[to Marion] What did you say to her?

Marion:
Well, Howard, you told me to talk to her.

Howard:
Yes, talk, but not tell her anything.

Joanie:
Boy, I wish the man would finish fixing our TV set.

Marion:
Well, he promised to get our picture tube back in seven to ten days.

Joanie:
Yeah, but I'm not gonna last that long. I'll go stir crazy.

Howard:
Do what you did before we had television.

Joanie:
I sat around wishing we had a TV.

Marion:
I remember during the war there was a war-bond rally, and Mickey Rooney showed up, and he helped them make thousands of dollars. Do you remember, Howard?

Howard:
I sure do. It's the last time I felt tall.

Richie:
I don't know that much about Hamlet, Fonzie, but I'll teach you everything I know.

Fonzie:
Go.

Richie:
All right.

Howard:
So, you're gonna play the "Melancholy Dane," huh?

Fonzie:
Hey, wait a minute! I don't play animals!

Marion:
What would we do without you, Fonzie?

Fonzie:
Well, you'd be up a creek, Mrs. C.

Richie:
Yeah, our car'd be stuck in the snow, our tree'd be out, and our Santa Claus would be mugging the neighbors.

Howard:
We're gonna have fun. Look, we'll, we'll pop popcorn, and we'll toast the marshmallows, and we'll drink some cider and trim the tree, and then, later on, I'll read The Night Before Christmas.

Joanie:
[singing] Jingle bells, jingle bells, boring all the way.

Howard:
No singing at the table, Joanie.

Howard:
What is it you did last night?

Richie:
Do you wanna hear what really happened or the lie we're gonna tell everybody else?

Howard:
Start with the lie. It's probably more interesting.

Richie:
You know what my idea of a perfect girl is, Fonz?

Fonzie:
[rolling eyes] I have no idea. Thrill me.

Richie:
I like a girl... with a cute face... a cute build... and a nice personality.

Fonzie:
No, you don't say.

Richie:
What's your idea of the perfect girl, Fonzie?

Fonzie:
45-22-34... with her own Harley.

Howard:
You realize we're probably gonna have to sit through six other strippers before she comes out.

Richie:
If we hurry!

Richie:
Burglar, meet my friends, Ralph and Potsie.

Burglar:
You need to widen your circle of acquaintances. These are the most useless friends I've ever seen.

Burglar:
You know, I could use a good, strong kid like you. Ever think of becoming a burglar?

Ralph:
If I don't get into dental school, you'll be the first one I call.

Richie:
Since when is politics the key to sex?

Ralph:
Are you kidding? I heard about a guy who was canvassing in '52. He rang a lady's doorbell and didn't come out till '54.

Richie:
I know I'm right. Why should I have to apologize?

Marion:
Because he is your father.

Joanie:
Right or wrong, I always apologize. It keeps my allowance coming in.

Richie:
We're gonna go cruising and see if we can catch onto some new talent.

Potsie:
Why don't you drop Mary Anne, and come with us?

Bag:
Not me. You know the old saying, "A bird in the hand ..."

Ralph:
Yeah, but what you have is a dog on a leash.

Ralph:
I don't get it. Two red-headed gods and she picks Potsie Weber. Maybe she feels sorry for him.

Richie:
No, she doesn't know him the way we do.

Richie:
I'm gonna interview Howdy Doody.

Potsie:
How are you gonna do that?

Richie:
I'm gonna pull a few strings.

Ralph:
With a divorcée, all you gotta do is establish a relationship.

Richie:
With a glass of water?

Ralph:
It's a start, Rich, it's a start. It gets you inside the house. Then, you charm your way into her private quarters. From there, you're just one subtle move away from paradise.

Richie:
You go from a glass of water to paradise?

Richie:
Mom, you're not still mad, are you?

Marion:
I'm not still mad because I never was mad. You ordered this meatloaf, Richard.

Richie:
You're mad. You always call me "Richard" when you're mad.

Joanie:
Don't feel bad. When she's mad at me, she calls me "brat."

Fonzie:
Yeah, just wait 'til my bongo solo.

Ralph:
[glancing at the others] We don't have a bongo solo. [Fonzie glares at him] Oh, but we'll put one in, Fonz! Right guys?

Potsie:
We didn't get the job, I know it.

Ralph:
You'd better be wrong. I already spent the money we didn't earn from the last job we didn't get.

Marion:
What's bothering you, Richard?

Richie:
Nothing, Mom. Why?

Marion:
Well, I always know when my children are troubled. You see, Joanie sucks her thumb, you stand holding the basketball and you don't shoot, and Chuck just sucks his thumb.

Ralph:
What do you think we should do?

Fonzie:
I think we should rake him over the coals until he cries wolf.

Potsie:
Isn't that a mixed metaphor?

Fonzie:
Do you think he's gonna know the difference?

[Richie studies the dedication Fonzie wants him to read out on the radio]

Richie:
"To the Drysdale sisters, Beth and Jenny, from Fonzie and Sam."

Fonzie:
Yeah.

Richie:
Who's Sam?

Fonzie:
Oh, that's me. I don't want the Drysdale sisters to know they're competing.

Ralph:
Are your glands swollen?

Richie:
Well, I don't go around feeling my glands.

Ralph:
[to Potsie] Irritability, that's another symptom! [feels behind Richie's ears] Could be swollen. Why didn't I wear rubber gloves?

Howard:
Who's the girl?

Richie:
Denise Hudson.

Howard:
The one with the terrific perfume? Oh, you've got good taste.

Richie:
Except she's Fonzie's girl, and I was supposed to be keeping the other guys away from her while he's gone.

Howard:
Good taste and bad judgement.

[Ralph believes two of his teachers are having an affair]

Ralph:
Last week, I went into Pinney's office. He was blowing in her ear! He tried to cover up by saying he was demonstrating his perfect pitch.

Richie:
You just have a suspicious mind.

Ralph:
My mind's not suspicious, just dirty.

[Ralph and Potsie have to share a bed]

Ralph:
If you snore, you're gonna get a pillow down your throat.

Potsie:
Well, you'd better stay on your side of the bed.

Ralph:
What's that supposed to mean?

Potsie:
I don't know. That's what my mom tells my dad.