B=Buffy, X=Xander, W=Willow, D=Dawn, S=Spike
A=Anya/Anyanka/Aud, D'H=D'Hoffryn, H=Halfrek, O=Olaf

D: My advice to you is do exactly what everyone else does, at all times.
W: Got it.
D: Do what everyone else does, wear what everyone else wears, say what everyone else says.
W: Okay.

D: People may say something like, "My protein window closes in an hour." Just... nod and smile, mm-hmm. Turns out it has something to do with fitness.

B: Have you talked to her lately?
X: Not since the night with the gnarl demon. And that wasn't exactly the "how have you been?" kind of talk. It was more the "pierce its eye with something sharp" kind of talking.

X: I love being single. I'm a strong, successful male who's giddy at the thought of all the women I will no doubt be dating in the near future.
B: Strong, successful men say "giddy"?

A: Trolls!
O: Oh, they are wretched creatures indeed. The mere thought of them makes me bend at the knee and flex.

A: The rapid reproductive rate of our rabbits has given me an idea. I can give the excess out to the townspeople, exchanging them not for goods or services, but for goodwill and the sense of accomplishment that stems from selflessly giving of yourself to others.
O: Sweet Aud! Your logic is insane and happenstance, like that of a troll.

O: It is not my fault they don't take kindly to you. You speak your mind and are annoying.

O: I've told you a thousand times, I have no interest in this Rannveig. Her hips are large and load-bearing, like a Baltic woman. Your hips are narrow. Like a Baltic woman from a slightly more arid region.

S: Dru used to see things, you know. She'd always be staring up at the sky watching cherubs burn or the heavens bleed, or some nonsense. I used to stare at her and think she'd gone completely sack of hammers.

B: Spike, this basement is killing you. This is the Hellmouth. There is something bad down here. Possibly everything bad.

A: Oh, um... I have a boyfriend now. He lives here.
W: That's great!
A: Yeah, we just had lots and lots of sex.
W: Okay.

Townswoman: It's the biggest troll I've ever seen!
Townsman: Run! Hide your babies and your beadwork!

O: Stop! It's Olaf!
Townsman: The troll is doing an Olaf impersonation!
O: I am Olaf!
Townsman: Hit him with fruits and various meats!

D'H: What'd he do?
A: Bar matron. A load-bearing bar matron.
D'H: Is there any other kind?

A: I don't talk to people much. I mean I talk to them, but they don't talk to me except to say that "your questions are irksome" and "perhaps you should take your furs and your literal interpretations to the other side of the river."

O: Come here, tiny man. You are small and toylike.

A: Vengeance.
D'H: But only to those who deserve it.
A: They all deserve it.
D'H: Well, that's where I was goin' with that, yeah.

B: Ripped out the heart? My god. Hey, did you get the physics class you wanted?

A: There was just so much screaming. So much blood. I'd forgotten how much damage a grimslaw demon could do.
H: Tell me about it. They can be feisty little guys, and impossible to housetrain. I mean, once they start nesting, forget it.

W: I'm here to help you.
A: You're here to... Well, that's great, Willow. Flayed anybody lately, have you?

X: There's little that can distract the Willow when she's on the hunt for the mighty syllabi.

B: The heart's completely ripped out. This is our guy.
X: Or a copycat spider demon.

B: Willow said it was a spider demon. Maybe it's his webbing.
X: This isn't springy, high-flying fun!

X: I think we need more swords.

H: I'm sure this is what she had in mind.
A: Well, I don't know about her mind, but it was in her heart. Besides, Russia was ready to explode, all we did was just give it a little push.
H: What should we do with the rest of our evening?

H: There's a revolution going on outside that you are somewhat responsible for. Aren't you the teeniest bit interested?
A: Well, what is there to be interested in? The worker will overthrow absolutism and lead the proletariat to a victorious communist revolution, resulting in socio-economic paradise on earth. It's common sense, really.

X: This isn't new ground for us. When our friends go all crazy and start killing people, we help them.
W: Sitting right here!

X: You know, if there's a mass-murdering demon that you're, oh, say, boning, then it's all grey area.

B: I loved him more than I will ever love anything in this life, and I put a sword through his heart because I had to.
W: And that all worked out okay.

D'H: Behold D'Hoffryn, lord of Arashmaharr, he that turns the air to blood and rains... Miss Rosenberg. How lovely to see you again. Have you done something with your hair?

D'H: I figured I'd be hearing from you soon. The flaying of Warren Meers? Oh, truly inspired. That was water-cooler vengeance. Lloyd has a sketch of it on his wall.

A: Everyone is so considerate today. I should have slaughtered people weeks ago.
X: I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I did to you, everything I put you through.
A: Thank you! All better. Thank goodness you got here in time.

X: Did everybody have their crazy flakes today?

A: This is getting to be a pattern with you, Buffy. Are there any friends of yours left you haven't tried to kill?

A: You're apologizing to me? What fight are you watching?

A: Honey, was that weird? That thing earlier with the singing, and the coconuts?

Anya's Song:
Mr. Xander Harris, that's what he is to the world outside.
That's the name he carries with pride.
I'm just lately Anya,
Not very much to the world, I know,
All these years with nothing to show.
I've boned a troll, I wreaked some wrath,
But on the whole I've had no path,
I like to bowl, I'm good with math,
But who am I?
Now I reply, that
I'm the missis,
I will be his missis.
Mrs. Anya Christina Emmanuella Jenkins Harris.
What's the point of trying?
I mean, except for the sweaty part.
What's the point of losing your heart?
Maybe if you're lucky,
Being a pair makes you twice as tall,
Maybe you're not losing at all.
No need to cover up my heart,
Plus see above re: sweaty part.
So maybe love is pretty smart.
Then, so am I, I found my guy.
And I'll be missis,
I'll be his missis,
Mrs. Anya lame-ass-made-up-maiden-name Harris.
We'll never part, not if we can,
And if we start, then here's my plan,
I'll show him what bliss is,
Welcome him with kisses,
'Cause this is a missis who misses her man.
He's my Xander and he's awfully swell,
It makes financial sense as well,
Although he can be-- I'll never tell.
Just stand aside, here comes the bride.
I'll be missis,
I will be his missis,
I will be--

A: Oh, I'd forgotten how much swords through the chest hurt.

D'H: Breathtaking. It's like somebody slaughtered an Abercrombie & Fitch catalog.

D'H: Isn't that just like a Slayer. Solving all her problems by sticking things with sharp objects.

D'H: I think we already know what lady hacks-away wants.

D'H: Haven't I taught you anything, Anya? Never go for the kill when you can go for the pain.

A: My whole life, I've just clung to whatever came along.
X: Well, speaking as a clingee, I kind of didn't mind.

A: What if I'm really nobody?
X: Don't be a dope.
A: I'm a dope.
X: Sometimes.
A: That's a start.

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