Troy: Annie, say there are two friends and they’re in the same class and one wants to ask the other one out on a date. Like a grown-up date, but within biking distance of his parents’ house.
Troy: Cool. I bet Randi would love that type of thing.
Annie: Randi? I thought-
Troy: You thought-I can’t believe I misled you like that. Listen, Randi can be the name of a guy or a girl. And in this case, it is definitely a girl. Thanks for your help.
Annie: You’re welcome. And I hate you. And I want to have your children.
Britta: Are you okay? It looks like you have actual bedhead this morning.
Jeff: In fashion, I’m what’s known as a taste-maker.
Britta: And you missed an entire side of your face shaving.
Jeff: And next month, so will Gwen Stefani.
Pierce: Vaughn? Vaughn. Oh, the guy with the tiny nipples you did it with.
Britta: Hi, Vaughn. Can we talk sometime? I’m sorry about how things ended.
Vaughn: Yeah well, I’m sorry that I can’t accept your apology ’cause you’re toxic, Britta. You know what? You’re like the exact opposite of an antioxidant. Yeah, Pssh. I got band practice. Lates.
Britta: Can’t we still be friends? Isn’t the word “later” already short enough?
Britta: Don’t. Talk. To. Vaughn.
Pierce: That is girl for “talk to Vaughn.”
Pierce: I lived in my car for a stretch in the ’70s. Nothing like bedding a woman in the vinyl backseat of a Skylark. Of course we didn’t have the same safety standards back then, so…Heh, no condoms. I tell you, before AIDS, sex was like shaking hands.
Abed: Hence AIDS.
Pierce: Hey, Tiny, you’re missing the headline. I’m in a rock band.
Jeff: Oh, I’d like to be there when the band finds out.
*Britta and Shirley look at each other*
Britta: Oh, hi Jeff. We were just talking about how in today’s economy-
Shirley: Mm-mm! Living in your car living in your car you are living in your car! I’m sorry, I’m not good at being coy.
Abed: You could stay with me in the dorms, my room has a bunk bed. Which is kind of a misnomer because it’s the real deal.
Jeff: The next person that offers me pity will be mentioned by name in my suicide note.
Jeff: Yeah. Move on with my life? Shmove shmon shmith shmy shmife.
Jeff: This condo is all that’s left of me, every part of it is a part of who I am.
Britta: Is that a bidet?
Jeff: That part’s for resale value, and Saturday afternoons.
Jeff: No, your incredulity perplexes me, nerd.
Abed: Jeff, did I say anything in my sleep last night about farm animals or Brian Williams?
Jeff: …I don’t think so.
Abed: Cool. Cool cool cool.
Abed: Sometimes I like to pour hot chocolate mix into cold milk, and drink it with hot cocoa. I call it special drink.
Jeff: And some day 0you will know it by its true name, diabetes.
Abed: You’re Goldie Hawn, Jeff.
Jeff: I’m sorry?
Abed: You’re Goldie Hawn.
Jeff: Is it the lips?
Abed: No. In Overboard, she was just like you. Wealthy, assertive, arrogant, got manicures all the time. But then she fell off her boat, and it was a good thing for her. Because, ultimately she realized she happier being poor and raising four unruly boys with Kurt Russell.
Jeff: Can I not be Kurt Russell in this scenario?
Abed: You can do whatever you want, you just have to know what that is. For me it’s Lucky Charms, and TV.
Shirley: Love is a gamble always, but waiting won’t change the dice. You either roll them or you lose your turn.
Annie *shaking hand suggestively*: I’m going to roll them. I am. I just-I need a few more shakes.
Shirley: Mm. Shake them in your mind, okay?
Shirley: Now if you’ll excuse me, Pierce’s band is playing and I wanna record the train wreck. Kind of hoping for a Michael Richards situation.
Saying goodbye to Britta was the hardest thing to do
But when someone’s a bitch and a liar, there ain’t nothing’ left to woo
I’m getting rid of Britta, what am I doing? I’m getting rid of the B
She’s a no-good B
I’m getting rid of Britta, I’m getting rid the B
She’s a GDB
Take it, Pierce
Jeff: TV’s the best dad there is. TV never came home drunk. TV never forgot me at the zoo. TV never abused and insulted me… unless you count Cop Rock.
Abed: Cop Rock. That sounds cool.
Jeff: Doesn’t it?
Pavel: Britta? I’m getting rid of Britta, getting rid of the B.
Britta: Excuse me. I have to future murder victim to visit.
Jeff: Cool cool cool.
Britta: Guys, what the hell? “Getting Rid of Britta”? That song was disrespectful to me, and to the definition of rhyme scheme.
Vaughn: I’m an artist, and I write what I feel. And I feel that you suck.
Pierce: Your song? We wrote it together. Are you trying to Garfunkel me?
Vaughn: Maybe, assuming to Garfunkel someone is to keep putting up with them even though they’re a fat, lazy, cat who hogs the spotlight and eats all the lasagna.
Pierce: I get it, you’re jealous of me.
Vaughn: What? Why?
Pierce: I don’t know, maybe because when I put of these skinny jeans my ass looks like a baby pumpkin. Or maybe because I’m not a small-nipped credit-hogging jag who only knows three power chords.
Vaughn: My band! My song! *throwing stuff at Pierce* You want that, huh, Pierce? How do you like that? Aah! Lates!
Britta: Pierce, did you just defend my honor?
Pierce: Huh? Oh, yeah. Totally.
Britta: You guys weren’t in Spanish class.
Jeff: Knight Rider marathon.
Abed: A shadowy flight in the world of a man who does not exist.
Abed: Draw the tape worm of Jeff’s old self out of him with the bowl of milk that is your sexuality.
Britta: Maybe you’re one of those rare people with nothing underneath the surface. Maybe, if you put stain remover on a turd, you don’t get a diamond. You just get a turd, with less direction in life.
Jeff: These look like–Wait. I made this notch to indicate optimal cleansing temperature for combination skin. These were mine?
Britta: For a fancy condo you’ve got awful security. Install those in a new apartment, so that every day, when you’re spending way too much time on your hair, you can look down and think: “I was a big phony before, I can do it again!”
Jeff: Yeah… You’re into me.
Britta: I beg your unbelievable pardon?
Jeff: Look at all this work you’re doing just to have me around again. You were way more attracted to me than you were willing to admit.
Britta: I was doing this all for Abed, you are the worst!
MC Dan Harmon
This a song for Pierce, cause him so old
His body made of wrinkles and folds
Stupid and ugly, he smell like a fart
Then poo-poo in his pants and poo-poo in my heart
Come Selecta bring him down, when him on a stage him dressed like a clown
The boy are Tom Arnold and we are Roseanne,
That’s why we divorced him
straight from the band
Pierce: I’m Pierce, yeah, song’s about me. Haha.
MC Dan Harmon
East side, west side, north side, south
Vaughn’s breath is so bad his butt’s mad at his mouth
This rap is by Pierce, Vaughn is dumb, he wears diapers to bed and sucks his mother’s thumb
and when he wakes up stupid wishing he was me, he has a big poop breakfast with a glass of pee
Then he goes to school where he’s stupid again and everybody hates him even all his friends
When you come after Pierce then the battle is on, so this rap goes out to stupid Vaughn
Vaughn: Uh huh. Well played, Pierce. This isn’t over.