Angel: Nykki? Where are your pants?
Phloxin: Oooh, little leprechauns of doom!
Phloxin and Nykki: (exhale) Bitch. (exhale) Bitch. (exhale) Cocksucker. (exhale) Whore.
Bri: Tourette's Lamaze class?
Me: The other advantage of playing with you, Bri, is that you're reliable.
Quin: I'm not cuter than anyone. I ugly.
Quinby: Joseph gets out.
Jefe: Bang! Okay, one less Catholic.
Angel: That's vulgar.
Phloxin: She doesn't care. They shot her Jeep. And Fix-a-flat is expensive.
Liz: They open the door and see a Russian woman with a tire iron...
Jefe: And a schoolgirl with a katana.
Jefe: Can I undo my non-action? Because it's really kind of passive. (rolls)...Never mind, I was just kidding.
Phloxin (miming baring breasts): Dos vidanya.
Me: I have it! Mind effects with a focus of baring my breasts!
Ensues a chorus of "go this way", "do it my way", etc, etc.
Me (miming baring breasts): These aren't the droids you're looking for.
Phloxin (miming baring breasts): Credits will do nicely. -- No, they won't. -- You're gay, aren't you?
Quinby: What, flashing someone isn't an action?
Quinby: He's staring with this 'oh, boobies!' look on his face. And then he takes a swing with the tire iron at the nearest bad guy.
Phloxin (miming grabbing two breasts and squeezing): Jesus saves...Jay-sus saves!
Bri: You know, playing with guns is a Bad Thing. The Pope doesn't like it, and neither does God.
Quinby (rolling perception + alertness): I have no...wow, I botched.
Jefe: That guy is really ugly...oh, Cop.
Angel (as a cop): Place your hands on top of your head.
Phloxin: I can't.
Angel: On top of your head!
Phloxin: I. Can't.
Angel: Explain yourself, ma'am.
Phloxin (whose hands are magnetized): My hands are stuck to my hips. Metal belt.
Angel: Install doubt. How many megs does doubt take?
Jefe: What's the throughput on doubt?
Phloxin: It's like broadband, everyone has doubt these days...
Me: You know, if you drop a magnet from a high enough height, it'll shock-demagnetize it.
Phloxin (whose hands are still magnetized): Let's not try that...
Me: Jax says they smell of evil. All I can smell is Chanel No. 5.
Phloxin: That's evil enough.
Phloxin: We should get a room at the Hilton, since there's a skywalk between them.
Me: And to Circle Centre. After we kill them, let's go malling...
Phloxin: We'll maul, then we'll mall!
Me: Would anyone like to program Leynia to remagnetize our room key?