Anything they did together, it's just comedy gold.
Groucho: But if we could find a nice little empty bungalow just for me and you...
where we could bill and cow...
No, where we could bull and cow...
Margaret: Do you know what you're trying to say?
Groucho: Yes, it's not what I'm thinking of.
What I mean was, if we had a nice little bungalow...
and you was inside and I was outside trying to get in or inside trying to get out--
Oh, no, I was in--You was up--
You were inside out and I was up--
Uh, no--
I'll tell you, if you don't hear from me by next Friday, the whole thing's off.
Margaret: I don't think I understand.
Groucho: I mean, your eyes--your eyes,
they shine like the pants of a blue serge suit.
Margaret: What? That's a insult.
Groucho: That's not a reflection on you. That's on the pants.
What I mean was if we had a nice bungalow...
and I came home from work and you were standing by the gate...
No, you came home from work and I was standing by the gate. That's more like it,
And we came down the path...
and we went inside and the shades were drawn...
and the lights were low, and, uh--then,uh--
Are you sure your husband's dead?
Margaret: Why, yes.
Groucho: There seems to be a trace of uncertainty in that "yes."
You know, a yes like that was once responsible for me jumping out of a window.
And I'm not the jumper I used to be.
What I mean was, you're gonna be here all winter and I'm stuck with the hotel anyhow,
why don't you grab me until you can make another arrangements?
Margaret: My dear, Mr. Hammer, I shall never get married before my daughter.
Groucho: You did once.
