Berta: Charlie, Alan, I’d like you to meet my youngest daughter Naomi. The light of my life. A little angel who swooped down from heaven and landed on a married man’s penis.
Berta: ( on Charlie’s relationship ) Not based on sex? Well, unless she sweats bourbon and farts hundred – dollar bills, what exactly is going to keep you together?
Charlie: Hey, Berta, how have you been washing my underwear?
Berta: Like I do everything around here: with a song on my lips and love in my heart.
Charlie: I’m serious. I got a rash in my, you know, private area.
Berta: Private? If yet more traffic down there, you’re gonna have to open a Starbucks.
Berta: He's gotta go, Charlie.
Charlie: What am i gonna do, Berta? He's my brother.
Berta: We could make it look like an anccident.
Alan: Berta, have you seen Charlie?
Berta: Ne’s not in his bed?
Alan: No.
Berta: Passed out on the bathroom floor?
Alan:No.
Berta: Rubbing oil on the volleyball girls?
Jake: No.
Berta: Well, that’s just leaves the bars, hospitals and jails. I’ll go get the Yellow Pages.
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