Cooperative Escapism in Familial Relations

Dean Pelton: Anyhoo, I just thought I’d mosey on over here, invite you all to Greendale’s annual Thanks-living potluck dinner, where we remember all we have to be thankful for. There may be a statistical link to enrollment at Greendale and holiday suicide.

Troy: I feel like I’m in jail, and you know what happens to guys like me in jail. They get really into push-ups, and I am fine with my upper body the way it is!

Britta: Psychology tells us there are no accidents.
Jeff: Oh, really? What about car accidents, Tara Reid, or the Hindenburg?

Britta: I just want to acknowledge that there are a lot of emotions flowing right now, and you two are probably feeling a strong impulse to sleep with each other, and hey, that’s normal.
William Winger: Wow. I’ll get the drinks.

Britta: I have an idea. Why don’t we use these dinner rolls to do some “roll” play? Heh. I see what I did there.

William Winger: No, I just mean that, uh, we are defined by what happens to us, and me leaving seems to have made you independent, made you strong.
Jeff: With all due respect, which is none. Go to hell.

Shirley: Who’s hungry for turkey?
Annie: Shirley, we were just-
Abed: About to-
Troy: Eat garbage dip. Why did I have to go third?

Jeff: Yeah, but you are emotional, and if you pretend you’re not, you’re only letting him off the hook for being a terrible father. Which he is, and always has been. I mean, he meant the world to you, and you meant nothing to him, and if you run away now, he’ll never know. He should know. Britta’s the worst.

Shirley: Those people up there, they may be rude, they may be pushy, they may have come to some wrongheaded conclusions about Batman and Robin.
Troy: Oh, thank you.
Shirley: But they’re my family, and family means putting up with each other even when it’s hard.

Jeff: I’m sorry. You should take some credit for who I’ve become.
William Winger: Okay.
Jeff: So, let me tell you how I turned out, just so you’re crystal clear on your impact. I am not well-adjusted. More often than not, I am barely keeping it together. I’m constantly texting, and there’s no one at the other end. I’m just a grown man who can’t even look his own friends in the eye for too long because I’m afraid that they’ll see that I am broken. So you get credit for that.
William Winger: Oh, come on now-
Jeff: One time, when I was in seventh grade, I told everybody at school that I had appendicitis. I wanted someone to worry about me. But when Beth Brannon asked to see the scar, I didn’t wanna get found out, so I took mom’s scissors, and I made one. It hurt like hell, but it was worth it. Because I got 17 cards, and I still keep them in a box underneath my bed 22 years later. Because it proves that someone, at some point, cared about me. You want to see the scar? So you get credit for that, too. This is me.
William Winger: Look, Jeff, I, uh…*groans*
Willy Jr: Daddy!
Jeff: Are you faking a heart attack?
William Winger: Kind of a Hail Mary.
Jeff: Happy Thanksgiving, Dad.

Jeff: Look, you’re probably feeling a very strong urge to sleep with me right now, and that is normal.
Britta: Sha.
Jeff: Britta, thank you. You were right. You’re not going to get all “jock jams” on me, are you?
Britta: No, of course not. I left my boom box at school.