The Body

B=Buffy, G=Giles, X=Xander, W=Willow, S=Spike, A=Anya, D=Dawn
T=Tara, J=Joyce

J: I think we're just about ready for pie.
X: And then I'll be pretty much ready for barf.
B: Xander!
D: Gross.
X: You know, barf from the eating. 'Cause all was good and too much goodness.
J: I'm taking it as a compliment.
G: Yes, everything was delicious.
A: Yes. I'm going to barf, too.
J: Everyone's so sweet.

X: Are you in the vomit club, too?
W: I had too much nog.
T: Oh, baby. Want me to rub your tummy? She likes it when I-- Uh, stop explaining things.

D: My nog tastes funny. I think I got one with rum in it.
W: That's bad.
X: Yeah, now Santa's gonna pass you right by, naughty boozehound.

W: Santa always passes me by. Something puts him off... could be the big honk menorah.

D: Um, guys -- hello, puberty? Sort of figured out the whole no-Santa thing.
A: That's a myth.
D: Yeah.
A: No, I mean, it's a myth that it's a myth. There is a Santa Claus.
X: The advantage of having a thousand-year-old girlfriend. Inside scoop.
T: There's a Santa Claus?
A: Mm-hmm. Been around since, like, the 1500s. But he wasn't always called Santa. But with, you know, Christmas night, flying reindeer, coming down the chimney -- all true.
D: All true?
A: Well, he doesn't traditionally bring presents so much as, you know, disembowel children. But otherwise...
W: The reindeer part was nice.

G: Want to open another?
J: Do we dare?
B: As long as you two stay away from the band candy, I'm cool with anything.

J: You are a demon child.
B: I live to torment you. Is that so wrong?
J: A daughter's duty, I suppose.

D: What a prima be-yatch. I swear, if I could make her head explode using only the power of my mind, that's what I'd be doing right about now.

D: You know, my big sister could really beat the crap out of her. I mean, REALLY really.

W: It just happened.
X: Things don't happen! I mean, they don't JUST happen. Somebody's... I mean, somebody's got...
W: Okay, Let's go. Come on. You and me, come on...
X: You know I can't take you.
W: Damn straight.

A: I don't understand! I don't understand how this all happens. How we go through this. I mean, I knew her, and then she's... there's just a body, and I don't understand why she just can't get back in it and not be dead anymore. It's stupid. It's mortal and stupid. And Xander's crying and not talking. And I was having fruit punch, and I thought, well, Joyce will never have any more fruit punch, ever. And she'll never have eggs or yawn or brush her hair. Not ever. And no one will explain to me why.

X: [boom] Sorry. Sorry, some... pent-up...
W: Xander... where did your hand go?
X: As I was saying, some frustration and now, um... I appear to be stuck.

A: You could have hit an electrical... thing.
X: And again with the sorry.
W: Did it make you feel better?
X: For a second there.
W: A whole second.

X: Who did the drywall in this place?
W: I always forget to ask.

T: Did I miss something?
A: Xander decided that he blames the wall.

D: I have to pee.
B: Do you want someone to go with you?
D: No. I still remember how to pee.

A: I wish that Joyce didn't die. Because she was nice. And now we all hurt.
X: Anya -- ever the wordsmith.
B: Thank you.

W: We panicked.
B: Uh-huh.

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