- Mike: [pointing at a blackboard] Alright, now that we got all this down: 'apple', 'kat', 'hare krishna', 'Frodis', 'legalize wisdom' and of course 'save the Texas prairie chicken', we're going to our next lession which is, speech.
- Psychiatrist: Well, we give you a little test. Ja, a test.
- [picks up a colorful Rorschach inkblot]
- Psychiatrist: Now. What does that appear to seem to be to you?
- [Micky starts to reply but no sounds come from his mouth]
- Mike: That looks exactly like a bunch of flowers to me.
- Psychiatrist: I am talking to him.
- Mike: I'm, I'm sorry.
- Psychiatrist: Hmm. You're such a silly. This is obviously a bunny... and a chicken. Ja? Now.
- Mike: It looks like a tomato ketchup stain to me.
- Psychiatrist: Seems you two came together. That is a bunny and a chicken. Hmm? Now!
- Davy: It looks like a bunch of birds dancing to me, you know.
- Psychiatrist: You three should form a group. It is a bunny... and a chicken!
- Mike: Well wait a minute, there's no need to get hostile about it.
- Psychiatrist: Don't you give me that hostile stuff, or I'll hit you! It's a bunny and a chicken!
- Mike: I'm sorry, man, that's just a bunch of flowers.
- Davy: It looks like a bunch of girls dancing.
- Psychiatrist: A bunny and a chicken!
- Mike: A bunch of flowers.
- Psychiatrist: A bunny and a chicken!
- Peter: A tomato ketchup stain.
- Psychiatrist: A bunny and a chicken!
- Davy: A bunch of birds dancing.
- Psychiatrist: A bunny and a chicken!
- Davy: [Micky, Mike and Peter are dressed as the Marx Brothers] Now who wants an act with a fuzzy headed mute harpist, an Italian with a weird looking felt hat and another guy with a long nose, a moustache and a smelly cigar. It's not commercial, I wouldn't buy the act, I wouldn't buy it.
- Mike: You're right, there's no audience identification.
- Manager: What, are you crazy? Nobody sings with their feet!
- Mike: What do you mean, nobody sings - of course they sing with their feet, I mean, eh, didn't you ever hear of the movie, eh, 'Young man with a corn'?
- Peter: Yeah, and how about 'Flat Foot Floojy With A Floy-Floy'?
- Mike: Anybody can sing, it's not everybody can play their feet. No sirree bob.
- Manager: [Micky, Mike and Peter are dressed as the Marx Brothers] Stop this! What do you think you're doing? I hired you to sing, not grow hair and smoke cigars and honk the horn!
- Mike: One day Micky wished that he wouldn't talk and all of a sudden he just stopped, which is a stone drag.