Ohh!

Curly:

Oh, oh look Moe, I think we got a customer! [the theme from "Perry Mason" plays in the background] Larry:
Whoa, would you look at those getaway sticks! Curly:
Rowf, rowf, rowf! [Curly pants like a dog] Moe:
Spread out! Moe:
[Lydia approaches]
I'm the foreman here, what can we do for you? Lydia:
I'll pay you $830,000 for a job that won't take you more than 10 minutes. Curly:
Oh, we'll take it. Who do we have to murder? Lydia:
[the Stooges chuckle]
My husband. Larry, Curly, Moe:
Nyah-aah-aah! [Curly's teeth chatter nervously] Moe:
Sorry lady, you came to the wrong place; we're working stiffs, not common crooks! Lydia:
But you don't understand, you will be doing him a great service. Larry:
Says who? Mac:
[Mac gets out of the car]
Says me. Moe:
Who are you? Mac:
I'm her husband. [Mac kisses Lydia] Larry:
Wait a minute, you mean to tell me she's planning your funeral, and you're okay with it? Mac:
Well, I know it all sounds a bit peculiar... Curly:
No no no, that doesn't sound peculiar, this sounds peculiar. [Curly puts his hands to his head and shakes it around, chuckles] Mac:
[Mac groans as if he's in pain]
Ow! Lydia:
My husband is suffering from an incurable disease that eventually will kill him. Mac:
Unfortunately, it could take a year, possibly more. Pain increasing daily... till I lapse into an irreversible coma. Curly:
I had that, only it was just in my feet, yeah. It's called "coma-toes". [Larry and Curly laugh] Moe:
[Moe laughs sarcastically]
Oh, coma-toes, huh? Curly:
Yeah. Curly:
[Moe stomps on Curly's toes]
Ohh!