The Pothole

Jerry:I don't understand baking soda toothpaste. What is baking soda doing in toothpaste? Baking soda is so cocky. It thinks it can do everything. 'Oh, I can freshen your breath, I can clean your teeth, I can deodorize your refrigerator.' Just shut up! You're baking soda. You bake cakes. Do that.

George:Oh, so you're a doctor now? You went to medical school? You have a license hanging on your wall?

Jerry:You're a bald-faced liar.

Jerry:A manipulator.

Jerry:A man completely morally empty.

George:How about 'a man in transition'?

Jerry:Phil Rizzuto bobblehead... I wonder if you squeeze it, does it say 'Holy cow'?

Jerry:Why didn't you pull over?

Kramer:I was drafting! You know, like in NASCAR. I was right on that truck's bumper, saving gas, going faster. It was beautiful.

Jerry:You were dragging a piece of furniture down the street!

Kramer:So? The aerodynamics were perfect.

Kramer:You know, this is what's wrong with society today. Nobody takes pride in their work anymore. I mean, look at this road. It's falling apart!

Jerry:Kramer, you dragged that chunk of road for five exits.

Kramer:Exactly! And nobody stopped me! That's the problem right there.

Jerry:What is this? 'Chicken with garlic sauce.' How much garlic? Because I'm reading this like an ingredient list. 'Chicken with garlic sauce' — I want to know the exact garlic-to-chicken ratio. And 'General Tso's chicken' — who is General Tso? Is he still alive? Can I call him?

Jerry:You can't deliver across the street?

Chinese Restaurant Worker:No, we don't deliver across the street.

Jerry:Why not?

Chinese Restaurant Worker:That's just the way it is.

Jerry:So if I move two blocks away, you won't deliver? What if I move to the next neighborhood? What if I move to New Jersey? What if I move to Pennsylvania? What if I move to Mexico? You're telling me you won't deliver to Mexico?

Chinese Restaurant Worker:We deliver to 84th Street.

Jerry:What's new?

Kramer:Well, I'm a father now.

Jerry:What?

Kramer:Yeah, I adopted a highway.

Kramer:Look at this, Jerry. My adopted highway mile.

Jerry:Oh, that's nice.

Kramer:Yeah, I'm very proud of it.

Jerry:It's beautiful. Look at that asphalt. And the shoulder? Perfect condition.

George:I need to get these keys duplicated.

Jerry:What's wrong with your keys?

George:Look at this - it says 'Do Not Duplicate.' So I can't duplicate them.

Jerry:George, that's just what they put on keys.

George:I don't care what they put on them. It says do not duplicate. I'm not duplicating anything. I'm following instructions.

Jerry:Oh, you can't duplicate keys that say 'do not duplicate.' That's the law, George. It's right there on the key. You see the little words? That's legally binding.

George:Well, what if you cover up the words?

Jerry:Then it's a different key, George. A key with a secret.

Jerry:So now I have to pretend I live across the street? What am I, a refugee?

Jerry:This is discrimination. They're denying me service based on my address. It's like apartheid, but with egg rolls.

George:I'm telling you, her mouth is filthy. I'm buying industrial-strength mouthwash, dental floss, a tongue scraper... the whole arsenal.

Jerry:George, it's not that bad.

George:Not that bad? I could eat off her tongue. Actually, I'm thinking about it.

Kramer:I wake up in the morning, I have my coffee, I read the paper, maybe do some exercises. The whole thing takes about 20 minutes or an hour.

George:Oh no! The Scooter! We gotta get him out of there!

George:He's gone. He's gone. My childhood hero, gone.

George:We should have a funeral. A proper funeral.

George:It's made by an aerospace company. They know about automatic shutoff systems.

Jerry:So what does 'automatic' mean?

George:The battery dies.

Jenna:George, why does my mouth taste like bleach?

George:Bleach? I don't know what you're talking about. That's ridiculous.

Jenna:My tongue is numb!

George:That could be anything. Could be your diet. Could be stress.

George:I'm telling you, there are germs everywhere. I need to inspect her mouth personally. I'd go in there with a full hazmat suit, maybe some kind of laser weapon to vaporize anything that looks suspicious. I'd have a microscopic camera mounted on my helmet, thermal imaging to detect bacterial hot spots. And if I found something, anything at all, I'd have a small tactical strike force ready to neutralize it immediately. We're talking surgical precision here, maybe some kind of shrinking device so I could actually go inside and conduct a thorough inspection.

Jerry:So let me get this straight. First you wouldn't shake hands with people. Then you started using a tissue to open doors. Now you're wiping down your steering wheel with Lysol wipes before every drive.

George:It's not progression, it's prudent!

Jerry:George, you're not being prudent. You're exhibiting a clear pattern of obsessive-compulsive behavior bordering on paranoid delusion. At this rate, by next year you'll be in a hazmat suit convinced the entire city is a petri dish.

George:So what are you saying?

Jerry:I'm saying you might want to talk to someone. A professional. Because this isn't germaphobia anymore—this is early-onset dementia.

Kramer:I'm so proud of my highway. Look at it—it's spotless! I've been keeping it clean, picking up litter, making sure everything is in order. It's like having a child, you know? You want to do right by it.

Kramer:I'm cleaning up the highway. I'm moving all this trash to the woods.

Jerry:Oh, so now the woods are cleaner than the highway?

Kramer:The woods are natural. Appliances belong in the woods.

Jerry:Yeah, appliances are very natural. That's why you find so many refrigerators growing on trees.

Kramer:Look at this one — speed limit 75. Some guy took a marker, added a zero. Now it's 750!

Jerry:Kramer, that's dangerous. Someone could actually try to drive that fast.

Kramer:That's the beauty of it! It's performance art meets public safety. The guy's a genius!

George:You know what this city needs? Someone to go down to City Hall and just file a complaint about a pothole. But not just any complaint. A formal, notarized complaint.

George:They won't listen to me. But you know who they'd listen to? A baseball announcer. Yeah, a baseball announcer gets on the radio and says 'Ladies and gentlemen, there is a pothole on Maple Street,' and boom - fixed by tomorrow.

George:I should become a baseball announcer. That's the real power in this city.

George:Jenna, I have to tell you something. That toothbrush? It wasn't mine. It belonged to my cousin. He was visiting, left it here by accident.

George:So I was trying to return it to him, but I couldn't remember his address. So I called my mother, but she wasn't home. So I called my father, but he was at the track.

George:So I figured the best thing to do was to just keep it here until I could figure out where to send it. I didn't want to throw it away—that would be wasteful.

George:Plus, I was worried that if I threw it away and then he called looking for it, I wouldn't have it to give back to him. So really, I was doing the responsible thing.

Jenna:You used my toothbrush?! That's disgusting!

Kramer:What? It was an emergency!

Jenna:An emergency? There's no emergency that justifies this!

Kramer:My tooth was killing me!

Jenna:Well, fair is fair.

Kramer:What does that mean?

Jenna:I'm using your toilet, and I'm not flushing.

George:What did you put in there? What was it?

George:Was it my watch? Did you flush my watch?

George:My keys? My wallet? Tell me it wasn't my wallet!

George:My briefcase? My shoe? One shoe or both shoes?

George:Just tell me what it was!

George:You've been doing this on purpose, haven't you? Testing me. Seeing how paranoid you can make me.

Jerry:George, I'm not testing you.

George:Then why do you always know exactly what I'm thinking before I say it?

Jerry:Because I've known you for twenty years. I know how your mind works.

George:Exactly! You know how my mind works, so you know what will drive me crazy, and you do it anyway!

Jerry:George, that's just called being friends.

George:No, that's called psychological torture!

Jerry:Well, yeah. But it's friendly torture.

Kramer:You see, what we need is to widen the highways, add some recreational areas, maybe some of those little orange cones to make it feel more exclusive.

Jerry:I'm not lying, I'm just creating an elaborate alternate reality where I have friends who want to split a pizza with me. It's not fraud, it's method acting.

Jerry:Besides, the pizza place doesn't need to know I'm eating the whole thing alone while watching TV in my underwear. That's private.

Newman:I'm a postal worker. I see things. I know about the flounder.

Jerry:Newman, you can't use a postal truck for that.

Newman:Why not? The government trusts me with their mail. A little fish is nothing.

Kramer:He's got a point.

Newman:I've been running this operation for months. The postal service is the perfect cover.

Jerry:I'm not the janitor.

Building Resident/Superintendent:Yes you are, I saw you with the mop.

Jerry:No, I was just... I was trapped in here. I'm trying to get out.

Building Resident/Superintendent:Well, while you're at it, there's a coffee stain in 4B.

Jerry:I'll get right on that.

Radio DJ:We're looking at some major delays on the highway this afternoon due to unusual road modifications. Apparently someone has installed a series of speed bumps, detour signs, and what appears to be a makeshift toll booth in the middle lane. Traffic is backed up for miles. We're advising all commuters to avoid the area. This is quite possibly the worst traffic situation we've ever seen. In related news, if anyone knows a Cosmo Kramer, please advise him that his jaywalking instructor license has been revoked.

Jerry:And here's the janitor closet where you'll be living.

Newman:Jerry, this is a closet.

Jerry:A rent-controlled closet.

Newman:Where do I sleep?

Jerry:On the mop bucket. But look—

Jerry:You got a window.

Jerry:Well, at least they're getting their fiber.

Jerry:I'm not germaphobic. I'm fine. I can touch anything. Look, I'm touching this doorknob right now. This doorknob that thousands of people touch every single day. Thousands of people with their dirty hands, their grimy fingers, their crusty palms...

Jerry:People who don't wash. People who sneeze on it. People who wipe their noses on it. People who just came from the bathroom and didn't wash their hands—or worse, they washed their hands but they didn't use soap, they just ran them under cold water for half a second...

Jerry:And now I'm touching it. I'm holding it. I'm gripping it with my bare hand. But I'm fine. I'm totally fine. See? No problem.

Jerry:We could eat at my place.

Jerry:I've got nothing in the fridge, but we could order something.

Jerry:Although, I can't use my plates anymore. I'm convinced they're contaminated.

Jerry:So we'd have to eat straight from the containers.

Jerry:And I can't touch the containers either, so you'd have to feed me.

Jerry:This is nice.

Jenna:Yeah, it really is.

Phil Rizzuto Bobblehead:Holy cow!

Kramer:Well, I made a few improvements to the highway. Added some lane markers, smoothed out a couple of turns...

Jerry:Kramer, what did you do?

Kramer:There was a 47-car pileup.

British Driver:Well, that's not terribly convenient, is it?

Kramer:Yeah, and then the guy behind me, he doesn't see the stop sign, he rear-ends me. So now there's three cars involved.

Kramer:Then a truck comes along, smashes into all of us. Now it's four cars and a truck.

Kramer:Then a bus hits the truck. Five cars, a truck, and a bus.

Kramer:I'm telling you, it was a domino effect!

Kramer:Oh, the humanity!

Kramer:These pretzels are making me thirsty.