Merl: You treat me like a cheap 'ho. I want a divorce.
Angel: Bitchslap me. I deserve it.
Merl: Passive-aggressive freak. I don't need you. I'm good enough, and
people like me, and aaaaaaaargh!!!

Wesley: Please note that someone's killing demons.
Gunn: Yay?
Wesley: No, bad.
Gunn: I am so confused.

Angel: Please note I'm wearing pleather.
Cordy: Noted.
Angel: Go therapy Fred.
Cordy: Don't wanna.
Angel: I will smile insincerely.
Cordy: Fred therapy, coming up.

Cordy: Fred, you need to become a raver.
Fred: (edges away slowly)

Bad Munchkin: I'm a badass and I highjacked your minions!
Gunn: Yeah, but my moral ambivalence is bigger than your moral ambivalence.

Gunn: Find anything?
Angel: Yes, but I'm not telling you what I know so you'll know I know.
Gunn: I'm not telling you I know you know, so we'll both know I know you
know.
Angel: Wuh?
Gunn: Look over there! (runs away)

Bad Munchkin: I want to do a Hedwig number!
Host: Drag night is Fridays.
Bad Munchkin: Fuck that. 
(whole lotta gunfire)
Gunn: Can't we all just get along?
Wesley: Gunn, you triple-crossing bitch. 

Gunn: Monster!
Rondell: You monster!
Gunn: No, you monster!
Rondell: I knew I shouldn't have shown you my third nipple.

Bad Munchkin: (shoots caraoke machine)
Audience: (realizes it has always wanted to)

Bad Munchkin: Gunn, I really think that you are the monster here.
Gunn: You just envy my gradual rise into the middle class.
Bad Munchkin: I rest my case.
Fred: Who do I shoot?
Angel: Shoot  me. I deserve it.
Fred: Eenie, meanie, Bad Munchkin, moe...
Angel: Shoot me. I deserve it. 
Fred: What's with you?
Angel: I'm on the down part of my bipolar cycle.
Fred: And you are the one who lectures me into sanity?
Random  Monster: I'm fed up. Okay, now I'm just fed.

Wesley: Gunn, you're sleeping on the couch for like a *month*
Gunn: Angel, you really are a monster.
Angel: Shoot  me. I deserve it.
Gunn: Angel, bud. Consider Prozac.

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