T=Ted Buchanan, N=Neal at Ted's office
X: Who was the real power: The Captain or Tennille?
B: Um, who are these people?
X: The Captain & Tennille? Boy, somebody was raised in a culture-free environment.
B: I was just...
B: No, not thinking. Having a lot of happy non-thoughts.
X: With Spike and Drusilla out of the way, we've really been riding the mellow....and I am really jinxing the hell out of us by saying that.
X: How is Angel? Pretend I care.
B: Getting better.
W: And you're loving playing nursemaid?
B: Oh, yeah!
X: So, is it better than playing naughty stewardess?
B: So, all these late nights at the gallery recently, I gather you were cataloging more than art?
J: He redid my entire system at the gallery. Freed up a lot of my time.
B: To meet new people. And smooch them in my kitchen.
W: //high-pitched squealing babble//
X: Oh, that's the sound she makes when she's speechless with geeker joy.
G: It's staking time, really, don't you think?
B: Any others?
G: Well, for their sakes, I certainly hope not.
B: What? Kill vampires, that's my job.
G: True, true, although you don't usually beat them into quite such a bloody pulp beforehand.
B: Vampires are creeps.
G: Yes, that's why one slays them.
B: I mean, people are perfectly happy getting along, and then vampires come, and they run around and they kill people, and they take over your whole house and start making these stupid little mini-pizzas. Now where I like a mini-pizza, but I'm telling you...
G: Buffy. I believe the sub-text here is rapidly becoming... text.
B: Think there'll be any more? I can wait.
B: If you say one more word, things will become dire.
X: I'm here to tell you, those mini-pizzas have changed my life!
B: So far, all I see is someone who apparently has a good job, seems nice and polite, and my mother really likes him.
X: What kind of a monster is he?!
B: I'm just saying there's something a little too clean about this clown.
W: He's a clean clown! I... have my own fun.
X: Buffy, you're lacking evidence. I think maybe we're in Sigmund Freud territory.
X: Having issues much?
B: I am not!
X: /~You're having parental issues, you're having parental issues!/~
X: What? Freud would have said the exact same thing... except he might not have done that little dance.
B: Seeing my mother frenching a guy is definitely a ticket to therapy-land.
X: Hi, Ted. Ted, who's here.
T: Your upgrades.
W: Oh, what a day! Thank you!
T: Buffy, do you like miniature golf?
X: Who doesn't?!
B: You know what? We would love to, honestly, but unfortunately, we have that thing on Saturday.
W: Oh, that thing. That _thing_.
X: Hey, we can do that thing any time. I'm tired of doing that thing. We're on!
JC: Pretty flimsy excuse for coming by to see me.
G: You should've heard the ones I threw out.
G: I just wanted to see how you're doing.
JC: I'm doing pretty good, actually. Stayed out of mortal danger for three whole weeks. I could get used to it.
G: I certainly don't mean to make, um, dog eyes at you...
B: ...and then she said I was being sarcastic, which I was, but I'm sorry if I don't talk about Ted all the time.
A: So, are you gonna talk about something else at some point?
B: I'll play mini-golf, and I'll smile and curtsey and be the dutiful daughter. Do I have to like him?
A: Kiss me.
B: Finally, something I want to do.
X: Ah! The dreaded 5-par cuckoo clock. Hah! so many have come, so few have conquered.
T: So Buffy, I bet the boys are lined up around the block trying to get a date with you.
B: Not really.
W: Oh, they are! But she's only interested in...uh, her studies! Book-cracker Buffy." It's kind of her nickname.
J: Good morning, sunshine.
X: Can you say "overreaction"?
B: Can you say "sucking chest wound"?
X: So he's a little uptight. Last I heard, that's not a slaying offense. Don't give me the look!
X: Hey, Cordy, nice outfit.
C: Oh, very funny.
X: Not really.
C: What are you saying?
X: Nice outfit?
X: Look, I'm not gonna tell, they're not gonna know. Not your friends, not my friends. You want to go to the utility closet and make out?
C: God, is that all you ever think about? .... Okay.
B: Mom's been totally different since he's around.
W: Different like happy?
B: Like Stepford.
N: Nobody beats the machine. The guy's a genius. Knows everything about computers, never loses a client. If I sound bitter, I am.
B: Well, nobody likes an overachiever.
N: Uh-oh, the uber-boss.
T: Well, you know, little lady, it's not just for looks, it's for building strong bodies.
B: Vampires. Here, vampires.
B: I was *so* hoping you'd do that.
X: What was he?
X: What was he? A demon, a giant bug, some kind of dark god with the secrets of nouvelle cuisine? I mean, we are talking creature feature here, right?
W: But I'm sure it wasn't your fault. He started it.
B: Yeah. That defense only works in six-year-old court, Will.
X: Man, this is killing me! That bastard was up to something, I know it. If I could just get my hands on him... earlier this week.
C: I thought you liked him.
X: I sometimes like things that are not good for me.
C: I don't get it. Buffy's the Slayer - shouldn't she have...
X: What, a license to kill?
C: Well, not for fun. But she's like this Superman. Shouldn't there be different rules for her?
W: Sure, in a fascist society.
C: Right! Why can't we have one of those?
G: Whatever the authorities have planned for her, it can't be much worse than what she's doing to herself. She's taken a human life. The guilt, it's... it's pretty hard to bear. It won't go away soon.
C: I guess you should know, since you helped raise that demon that killed that guy that time?
G: Yes, do let's bring that up as often as possible.
X: Don't sweat it. It'll be fine.
W: Don't sweat it??
X: Yeah, cute buddy!
X: What do we know?
W: Well, apparently, the secret ingredient is _not_ love.
X: Buffy's cleared. Willow, you are the best human ever. I adore you. Well, that's the cookies talking, but you rock!
G: //holds up cross//
JC: "Hey, I get that reaction from men all the time."
JC: I mean, I know how badly you must feel about putting me in danger before...
G: Imagine how I must feel now.
B: Well, it's official. This day can't get any worse.
T: Beg to differ.
B: You died.
T: that's right, little lady, you killed me. Do we have something to say about that? Are we sorry?
B: What are you?
T: I'm a salesman! That's what you should have remembered. No matter how you put him down, a good salesman always bounces back!
C: I'll take the back.
X: Check for cookies. For evidence!
W: So far, I've counted four marriage certificates.
X: Any divorce papers?
W: Not a one.
X: So, either our boy was a Mormon, or...
W: Whoa, whoa, whoa! 1957?? Ted must have married young. Like preschool young.
C: Feels like home. If it's the '50's, and you're a psycho.
X: Whatcha got in the closet, Ted? ....Let's go!
C: But we need evidence.
X: We got it.
W: What's in there?
X: His first four wives.
Vampire: Nice shot, lady!
G: No, no, really. I don't think it went in too deep. The advantages of layers of tweed. It's better than kevlar.
JC: Some night, huh? Yeah, you really know how to woo a girl back, don't ya?
G: Ha, ha - ow, ow!
T: Buffy, how about a nice game of Parcheesi?
J: Do you want to rent a movie tonight?
B: Sounds like fun.
J: Just nothing with horror in it. Or romance. Or men.
B: I guess we're "Thelma & Louise"-ing it again?
J: Good call.
B: I wouldn't worry. He's not coming back.
J: I wish I could be so sure.
B: Trust me. He's on the scrap-heap. ...Of life.
X: So, I'm Ted, the sickly loser. I'm dying, and my wife dumps me. I build a better Ted. He brings her back, holds her hostage in his bunker-o-love until she dies. And then, he keeps bringing her back, over and over. Now, that's creepy on a level I hardly knew existed.
B: Willow, tell me you didn't keep any parts.
W: Not any big ones.
B: Oh, Will, you're supposed to use your powers for good.
W: I just want to learn stuff.
C: Like how to build your own serial killer?
X: It's so hard to rent one nowadays.
B: Okay, that's it, I give up. Do I have to sound an air-horn every time I walk into a room? I mean, what is it with grown-ups these days??
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