Teacher's Pet
B=Buffy, G=Giles, X=Xander, W=Willow, A=AngelC=Cordelia, PF=Principal Flutie
B: Destructo-girl, that's me.
Blayne: A girl's really got to have something to go with me.
X: Something like a lobotomy?
X: He's buff. She never said anything about him being buff.
B: Okay, I'll give you improved marks for that one. Ripping the throat out - it's a strong visual, it's not cryptic.
X: It's a balmy night, no need to be trading clothing out there.
A: I didn't pay attention.
B: To someone with a big fork?
B: That's all Cryptic Guy said: Fork Guy.
G: I think there are too many guys in your life.
B: Bright, sunny, beautiful - how ever can we escape this torment?
G: Really.
X: It's funny how the earth never opens up and swallows you when you want it to.
B: The words 'bug ugly' kind of spring to mind.
X: Those who can do. Those who can't laugh at those who can do.
X: This is a question that no one particularly wants to hear but... where did they put his head?
W: Good point - I *didn't* want to hear that.
B: Fork Guy doesn't do heads?
B: So there's something *else* out there, besides silverware man?
B: Yes, I lied, I'm a bad person, let's move on.
G: Yes, she's lovely... in a common, extremely well-proportioned way.
B: I'm an un-dead monster that can shave with my hand - how many things am *I* afraid of?
PF: Don't say dead, or decapitated, or decomposing. I'd stay away from D words altogether.
C: One minute you're in your normal life, and then, 'who's in the fridge?'
C: I'm not saying we should kill a teacher every day so I can lose weight.
B: Her fashion sense screams, 'Predator.'
W: It's the shoulder pads.
G: ...Entymology and Mythology.
B: Entyma-who?
G: Bugs and fairy tales.
W: He's got a crush on a giant insect!
G: I don't care what time it is, unlock his cell, unstrap him, and bring him to the phone!
G: This computer invasion that Willow's performing on the coroner's office - one assumes that it is entirely legal?
B&W (in unison): Entirely. Of course.
G: Right. Wasn't here, didn't see it, couldn't have stopped you.
X: What kind of a girly name is Angel anyway?
X: Needs should definitely be met, as long as it doesn't require ointments the next day.
W: Got it. Coroner's report, complete with--yuck--color pictures.
G: You were right, all along, about everything.... Well, no, you weren't right about your mother coming back as a pekinese.
B: We need to find it, and snuff it. Any hints on the snuffing part?
B: In the vid library.There are no books, but it's dark and musty, you'll feel right at home.
G: Recording bat sonar is something soothingly akin to having one's teeth drilled.
B: What do we do now?
G: Abject prayer and supplication would spring to mind.
B: Bat sonar. Makes your whole nervous system go to hell. You can go there with it.
X: Just for the record, you were right, I'm an idiot, and God bless you.