Interpretive Dance

Annie: Before we start, i’d like to have a preliminary pow-wow, or prelimawow, about what I’m calling our library’s back-door conumdrum.
Abed: Sounds like a porno with Kate Winslet.

Troy: Oh. The last thing I said to him was “suck it.”
Britta: Me too.
*Pierce walks in*
Pierce: Good morning.
Shirley: Oh!
Abed: Yes!
Britta: Oh, thank God.
Troy: Whew.
Pierce: You thought I was dead, didn’t you?
Everyone but Abed: No.
Abed: I did.
Pierce: You people have any idea how emasculating that is? I’m not Mickey Rooney, you don’t have to cross your fingers to see if I’ll show up. You know when I was 30 people used to wish I was dead to my face, that’s called respect.

Britta: Oooooh who is the lucky brunette?
Jeff: Last name beeswax first name noneya.
Pierce: Oh, my third wife was bi-racial.

Jeff: Can’t I be the friend in the group whose trademark is his well-defined boundaries like Privacy Smurf, Discrete Bear or Confidentiality Spice?
Annie: But if you like her why would want to keep her a secret, don’t you want us to meet her?
Jeff: We have an agreement to keep it low-key.
Pierce: That’s ridiculous, obviously it’s a guy.
Jeff: You’re wrong Pierce, it’s two guys. Sometimes I do wish you were dead.
Pierce: *whispering* Thank you.

Jeff: Professor Slater, quick question.
Slater: You know the answer, Mr. Winger. I don’t date students, even if you are no longer in my statistics class.
Jeff: I’m actually kind of seeing someone right now, thank you very much.
Slater: Really? How’s that going?
Jeff: Fine for now. She’s smart and pretty. But sometimes I feel like she’s just waiting for me to stop talking and take off my pants.
*Door thuds*
Slater: She is.

Jeff: I’ve never been someone’s dirty little secret.
Slater: I’ve never had a dirty little secret. It’s so unprofessional, but the sneaking does make the sex 38% hotter.
Jeff: Wow, you do like statistics, don’t you?

Jeff : You rank people by how hot they are?
Dean Pelton: You got it..number two.
Slater: Dean Pelton?
Dean Pelton: Yes, Professor Seven-uh Slater?

Dean Pelton: You guys be extra careful now. Two people of your rankings in this small room, with this type of lighting, and his upper body. And what her heels and hemlines are doing to enhance what were already quite a few favors from God. It’s all the more important to keep it tasteful.

Madame LeClair: I can’t wait for the recital, you were all wonderful. Especially you, Troy.
Troy: Thank you, Madame LeClair. And if any of you mention my dancing outside of class, I will break off your legs and use them to smash in your friends’ cars.

*Britta walks in as Troy is leaving*
Troy: Oh!
Britta: Huh!
*They see each others’ outfits and laugh*
Both: Oh my God.
Britta: Troy, since when have you taken modern dance?
Troy: Since last semester. Coach told me it would help with my coordination, and I fell in love with it, in a very straight way. *Britta looks down* I know it’s tempting to sneak a peek, but I’m gonna need for you to keep your eyes up here!

Jeff: As soon as we touch, the blinds will open, and six annoying but lovable misfits will be staring at us.

Pierce: Well, Jeff, you’ve taken a big step in knocking down the barriers between students and teachers. Just like Rosa Parks.
Jeff: I don’t think it’s like that.
Pierce: No, it’s just like that.
Jeff: I feel if you need to explain it, it’s not just like that.

Jeff: There are exceptions to the rule, but even when Jerry Rice went on dancing with the stars-
Pierce: Jerry Rice? Oh….I liked him.

Britta: Oh, my God. How can you do this to me? I’m so disappointed in you.
Troy: Hey, you don’t get to talk to me like that. You are not Shirley! And Shirley’s not my mom. Britta, it’s not like we were in the same boat. Girls are supposed to dance, that’s why God gave them parts that jiggle.

Shirley: Can can I just ask as a divorced black housewife What part of being a single white slacker makes you people so jaded?
Britta: Ooh! You people? What do you mean, you people? I cannot believe I got to say that.
Shirley: Heh heh, it’s the little things, isn’t it?

Jeff: We haven’t even admitted to being a couple. In fact, this is all based on hearsay, worse than hearsay. Pierce’s Twitter account, in which he says he’s 47 and teaches a women’s-only pilates class.

Dean Pelton: Well. First question, how long have you been doing it? Oh! *laughs* Not it. I mean this, dating.
Slater: A few weeks.
Dean Pelton: Mm-hmm. And how long have you been doing it?
Jeff: We don’t have to answer that.
Oh, it’s *points to the form* hmm? Now this is just hypothetical. Might you ever consider spending the night with a third person?
Jeff: That’s not on there! *grabs the form*
Dean Pelton: Uh-
Jeff: Wow, it’s on there.
Dean Pelton: Just exploring your options, obviously. Heh-heh-heh. No agenda. I’ll put “TBD”.

Jeff: Look, the biggest truths aren’t original. Truth is ketchup. It’s Jim Belushi. Its job isn’t to blow our minds. It’s to be within reach, so the truth is I get claustrophobic when things get official.
Slater: You’re acting like I’m a venus fly trap, I didn’t want or need more than what we were doing.
Jeff: Let’s get back to it, should I get the door?
Slater: I can’t now because you went to the friend place. That’s you getting official, not me. Because unless there’s something I need to know about the lunch lady, or that blonde in your Spanish class with the infinite supply of leather jackets. Somewhere between our 9th and 11th slumber party, statistically speaking, most people would call us more than pals.
Jeff: Yeah, but as soon as you say it, it can get complicated and messy.
Slater: How?
Jeff: Because when you say it, later on you might have to unsay it.
Slater: Whoopie-flippin’-ding, Winger. It happens 50-million times a day. It’s the Jim Belushi of sexual commitments. It barely means anything and it grows on what’s there over time.
Jeff: Wow, that guy’s really taking a pounding in this conversation.

Pierce: Culturally it’s unacceptable, but it’s theatrical dynamite.

Pierce: Troy! What you did up there really took guts. I’m impressed.
Troy: Thanks, Pierce.
Pierce: Yeah. And such a creative way to tell the world you’re gay.

Troy: Five letters Broadway musical.
Abed: Annie.
Troy: Uh, six letters to puncture.
Abed: Pierce.
Troy: A water filter that starts with “B”.
Abed: Brita.
Troy: Okay. Here’s a tough one, though. Um, Helen of-
Abed: Troy.
Troy: Oh, damn, you’re good.
Abed: Thank you.
Troy: I never even heard of that last one. All right, uh, one of the two brother actors. Bridges. Four letters.
Abed: Hmm.
Troy: I know. Bridges.
Abed: I don’t know.
Jeff: Come on, guys. Can’t you see the pattern there? Can you see it? It’s Beau, Beau Bridges! These are all things you can see on TV. Except for Pierce That’s a misdirect.
Troy: Oh.
Abed: Oh.
Troy: I love misdirects.
Abed: I love The Big Lebowski.