Angel: What's really fun...is a vacuum tube and some marshmallows.
Me: We sniff around for Avery's stench. Does anything smell like fish?
GM: Fish? Avery doesn't smell like fish.
Me: Sure he does...herring.
Jefe: I think we've abused Paris Hilton for as much as she's worth.
Me: That's not much abuse.
Bri: You capitalist American pigs! Of course I would like to take another vacation!
Me: Da, dahling?
Phloxin: What is...how you say...up?
Me: At the moment, I'd say Case, but that's not the point.
Jefe: No! Do not bring Case into this!
Quinby: Blasphemy: Tastes good on toast.
Jefe: No, that's butter.
Josh: People are gonna die! Some we actually care about.
Me: Trees, guns, and destruction. I've got you covered, baby.
Phloxin: Oooh! Are there any Hare Krishnas at the airport?
A chorus of "Hare Krishna...Hare Krishna..." a la Hair ensues.
GM: No! No Hare Krishnas!
Me: What does Avery's DayPlanner say?
Phloxin: Die! Die! Die-die-die!
Dash: Portland isn't Green Acres.
Phloxin: Have more sugar.
Phloxin: Although not quite like J.Lo. She doesn't have the ass.
Me: Because all of Leynia would fit in one cheek.
Me: Are moose kosher?
GM: They have a cloven hoof.
Phloxin: We can still have the antlers, eh?
Quinby (sounding strangled): Unless someone gets Joseph, he's still sitting in the lobby in the hotel.
Phloxin: Smoking, it seems.
Me: What's the scoop, butterball?
Phloxin: 'Butterball'? What is this 'butterball'.
Me: What did the KGB tell you, bitch?
Phloxin: Oh, see, 'bitch' I understand, this 'butterball' thing I do not. Did I make my disguise too fat?
Me: Well, there's someone home.
Phloxin: Then we f*in' nuke it!
GM: Oooh, demolitions.
Phloxin: This will be...from Russia with love.
Josh: He's there all right. He sounded like the e-mail.
Me: Your knee is so soft...
Phloxin: If you think that's soft, you should see the rest of me.
Josh: Dear Liz: Gotta go. I'm a yeti.
Me: We can stop in Nevada on the way back.
Phloxin: What's in...oh, yeah.
Me: Las Vegas, dumbass