C: It was a great audition. I was all about things leaking. How could they not pick me?

C: They gave it to a blonde who showed up in a skin-tight leather catsuit. She's supposed to be a housewife! She looked like catwoman taking out the cat trash!

C: She's just going to ask me about where I'm living and how the acting's going . I'm just not up for leading the pain parade.

D: If you ever want to, you know, spend one night away from the place, maybe give me a call.
C: Well, stranger things have happened. No... wait... they really haven't.

D: It's like wrestling a tiger just to get to know her.

D: Tell me stuff.
A: What stuff?
D: About Cordelia.
A: Well, I know she can't type or file. 'Til today I had some hope regarding the phone.

D: Who's Aura?
A: I think she's one of Cordelia's group. People called them the Cordettes. A bunch of girls from wealthy families. They ruled the high school, decided what was in, who was popular. It's like the Soviet Secret Police if they cared a lot about shoes.

D: The way she talks, it sounds like she had servants made of solid gold or something.

D: You're all about money. What about friendship and family and all those things that are priceless . . . like they say in that credit card commercial?!

D: You're a demon of focus. I can see that.

C: Don't even look at me. I am *such* a mess. I am the lowest of the lowest, and you're going to want to get my other suitcase out in the hall there.

C: My apartment. It's like the barrio or the projects or whatever. And I live there! I am a girl from the projects!

C: Get this, I tried to call Doyle--I sunk that low--and there was no answer. So, here I am. Not that you were a last resorts, just that I had nowhere else to go.

C: Roaches! Live ones. Dead ones. All skinny feet and creepy antlers!
A: Antlers?
C: Oh my god, I wonder how many stowed away in that bag! Also, the water is all brown and spurty and not hot! I am dying for a shower. I actually smell. Smell me. I never smell. I didn't know I could. I'm just going to have to stay here until I find a decent place, however long that takes. And when I do you're completely invited over. Hey, you can just dump my stuff on your couch, or let me have the bed, whatever you feel good about. Also, my suitcase is still out in the hall.

C: Your shower's in here right? Do you have mousse? < look > Of course you do.

C: You ever get that feeling like you just can't shower enough. Like something's happened and you'll never be clean?
A: You got peanut butter on the bed.

D: Angel, you knew I was crazy about her, and I was wearing her down, too. But no, handsome brooding vampire guy has to swoop in all sensitive mouth and overhanging forehead. How 'bout leaving some scraps for the homely-looking fellows who don't turn evil when they get some.

C: Angel, at some point in recent history *you* got peanut butter on the bed. And it's gross. I think you're going to have to change your sheets.
A: I don't eat.
C: Well then I don't even want to know how it got there.

D: Hey, Cordy, you're looking great, by the way.
C: I wouldn't know, man doesn't have a mirror. Like it would kill him to not see himself.

C: Yesterday, your cousin called, with one of those names from your part of England.
D: My part of England?
C: Connor or Fergus...

D: Well the things you learn. I had no idea Angel was Queen of the Winter Ball.

D: Your high school diploma's all burned.
C: Yeah. It was a rough ceremony.

C: Yup. There it is. My whole life, pre-here. Five trophies with some of the shiny worn off.

D: It's a system of checks and balances.
A: And some of your checks didn't balance.

A: We all have problems. It's about priorities. And at the moment, I have a bigger one than you do.
D: Bigger than a Kaliph demon?
A: Much. I'm thinking you could help me with mine, and maybe I could help you with yours.
D: Oh, I don't know. I mean, what's your problem exactly? Cuz, you know, vampire business is . . .
C: *ahem* Hi! I was just wondering if you have any linoleum glue. For... if it ... started curling up all over.
A: I'll be there in a minute.
C: Okay.
A: Find her an apartment, and I'll deal with your demon.

D: I wish you'd just let me call my guy.
C: I'm not getting an apartment through "some guy." He probably judges the property value on how far the bus ride is to the track.

D: Well, it can't get any worse than this, can it?
C: You can't tell anything from the hallway.
D: Hey, you're right! You know what I smell in here? *Potential.*
C: The next one will be better.

Commune Guy: It's like a community, you know. We share all the upkeep and chores.
C: And my urination just hasn't been public enough lately.
CG: Oh we don't believe in barriers. It's the first rule of the Great Leader. You can come to meetings if you want. Every morning at 5.
C: Okay, that's just a touch to early for me.
CG: Oh you'll be up. The chanting starts at 4.

Sleazy Guy: So, uh, you a single gal? Gonna be living here alone? Cuz I'm right across the hall, and you can sleep easy knowing I'm the only other soul in the world with a key to that door. You think about that while you look.
C: Okay, just out of curiosity, you say you know a guy?
D: Finally! What is it with you and Angel? You gotta do everything the hard way.

C: Oh my gosh. Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?
D: < looking at Cordy > Nope. Never.

C: It's amazing in there. What's wrong with it!?

Realtor: Do you think you want it?
C: I... I used to have this. I was...
Realtor: I guess it's your lucky day.
C: I used to have those, too.

C: First thing, I hire someone to take out that wall.
D: I thought you said it was perfect?
C: Yes! And part of it being perfect is there being one *tiny* flaw for me to fix.
D: Ah, must be why you find me so fascinating.

A: My name's Angel. What's yours?
Demon: Screw you.
A: ::SLAM:: My name's Angel. What's yours?
Demon: < silence >
A: ::SLAM:: My name's Angel. What's yours?
Demon: Griff.

A: Good meeting.

D: I have to pay? Man, I shoulda just handled this myself. I don't have the money. And you can't get blood out of a stone.
A: You can get blood out of you.

C: < bed lifts in the air > I knew this was too good to be true. I just knew it. I'm from Sunnydale! You're not scaring me you know!

C: You know what? I get it. You're a ghost. You're dead! Big accomplishment! Move on! You see a light anywhere? Go towards it!

C: Whoo! Cold wind! Scary. What're you gonna do? Chap me to death?

D: The place looks great. You worry too much. Don't know what you had against that chair though.

C: Oh that's right, you can't come in.
A: < steps in >
C: Wait, what about the rule?
A: You said when you got a place I was completely invited over.
C: What? I didn't even have a place then!

A: This is nice. How about a tour?
C: Uh huh, this is the kitchen, living room, I'm gonna knock out that wall, and that's about it. Hey, thanks for the cactus.

C: It's a very, very bad trophy.

C: I am not giving up this apartment.
A: It's haunted.
C: It's rent controlled!

D: Cordy, it says Die.
C: Hey, maybe it's not done yet. Maybe it's "diet"! That's friendly, a little judgmental, sure.

C: Listen, Casper! You haven't won yet. I'll die before I give up this apartment! I'll die!
MP: All right, dear. If that's what you think is best.

C: This apartment! I could be me again. Punishment over. It's like, welcome back to your life! Like, I couldn't be *that* awful if I get to have a place like that. It's just like you.
A: Working for redemption.
C: Um, I meant because you used to have that mansion.

C: It's her. I know it. The place has that weird little old lady smell like... violets and aspercreme.
D: Well, they didn't find her body for three weeks so it wasn't violets there at the end, I'm thinking.

C: This is easy. Little old lady ghost. Probably hanging around because she thinks she left the iron on.

C: Oh goody, another of Doyle's guys. Tell me, is this the same guy that helped me find my poltergeistilicious apartment?

C: Little old lady ghosts.... how come Patrick Swayze's never dead when you need him?

K: Now you're talking like a detective.
A: I am a detective.
K: Well, see, the thing about detectives is they have resumes and business licenses and last names. Pop stars and popes, those are the one-named guys.
A: You got me. I'm a pope.

D: Uh, Angel Investigations, we hope you're helpless.... no wait...

C: My name's Cordelia.
MP: Well that's the name of a cheap, small town tramp trying to sound better than she is!

A: Doyle, chant.
D: Oh man, Latin! One of those dead languages you always made me learn . . .

C: I'm not a sniveling, whining little cry-Buffy. I'm the nastiest girl in Sunnydale history. I take crap from no one!

C: Back off Polygrip!! You think you're bad? All mean and haunty? Picking on poor pathetic Cordy. Well, get ready to haul your wrinkly translucent ass outta this place, cuz lady.... the Bitch is back.

MP: Do you think I'm going to take that from trash like you?
C: I'll tell you what I think. I think you're going to pack your little ghost bags and get the hell out of MY HOUSE!!!

D: You did it.
C: Yeah, well, she pissed me off.

C: I knew I didn't like that wall.

A: Sooner or later I'm gonna need to hear it.
D: What?
A: The story of your life.
D: Ah, and quite a tale it is, too. Full of ribald adventures and beautiful damsels with loose morals.
A: Doyle.
D: I will. Just give me time. The past, don't let go does she.
A: She never does.

C: < on phone> Yeah, I have a roommate, but it's cool. I never see him. < root beer moves > Hey, hey, phantom Dennis. Put that back! < He does > < On phone > All in all, it's working out great. < tv turns on > Dennis! When I'm on the phone, that's quiet time. < tv turns off > Thanks!