W: Why wouldn't you go? You already have your tickets. I mean, unless you don't have a da... ay... or two, to think about it. We should all think about it.
C: What's going on here? Did Scott not ask her to the Homecoming Dance yet?
B: Thanks, Cordelia. Humiliation's really good for my color.

Sc: I assumed that you would think it was corny or something. But I'm in, I mean, you know, if you are, if you want to.
B: Sure. I do, you know, if you want to.
Sc: Well, I do if you want to.
O: The judges will accept that as a yes.

B: How are you feeling?
A: It hurts. Less.

Sc: I don't think we should see each other any more.
B: You don't? When did this happen? Where was I?

Sc: Before we were going out, you seemed so full of life, like a force of nature. Now you just seem distracted all the time.
B: I'm getting better, honest. In fact, from here on, you're going to see a drastic distraction reduction. Drastic distraction reduction... try saying that ten times fast.

German: Is that her?
T: In the nubile flesh, my friend.

Mayor: I think they could be cleaner.
Aide: Of course, sir. I mean, I wash them, but...
Mayor: After every meal, and under your fingernails. Dirt gets trapped there. And germs. And mayonnaise.

W: You have to help me pick an outfit. I want to wear something that makes Oz go, "Oh!" X: No problem. I got the tux going on. I'm going to look hot if it even remotely fits.

X: What'cha doin'?
C: Checking out the, I laughingly use the phrase, "competition." Holly Charlston: nice girl, brain dead, doesn't have a prayer. Michelle Blake: open to all mankind, especially those with a letterman's jacket and a car. She could give me a run.

W: Where's Buffy? She's going to miss the yearbook pictures.
X: Buffy and Faith are in the library getting all sweaty.
C: They're training!
X: I stand by my phrase.

C: I have to go to the nurse's office for an ice-pack anyway.
X: Did you hurt yourself?
C: No, silly, it shrinks the pores.

F: Oh, man! Guys should break up with you more often.
B: Gee, thank you.
F: No, I mean it. I mean, you really got some quality rage going. Really gives you an edge.
B: Edge-girl. Just what I always wanted to be.

F: Come on, we'll find a couple studs, we'll use 'em, and discard 'em. That's always fun.
B: Okay, I'm in! Not the stud-using part, though. Or, probably not.

B: Buffy Summers. Third row, I sat by the window. Your class, "Contemporary American Heroes from Amelia Earhart to Maya Angelou." That class that changed my life?

B: I can't believe it. My favorite teacher, and she didn't even remember who I was. I'm like a non-person. Am I invisible? Can you see me?
O: Big as life.

B: Obviously it involves handing out entirely lame flyers.
C: No, it involves being part of this school, and having actual friends. Now if it was about monsters, blood, and innards, then you'd be a shoo-in.

B: Sorry, Cordy, but you have no idea who you're messing with.
C: What, the Slayer?
B: I'm not talking about the Slayer. I'm talking about Buffy. You've awakened the prom-queen within. And that crown is going to be mine.

T: Competition. Competition is a beautiful thing. It makes us strive, it makes us accomplish, occasionally makes us kill. We all have the desire to win. Whether we're human, vampire... Whatever the hell you are, my brother, you got a spiny-looking head thing, I never seen that before.
Thing: I am Kulak, of the Meequak clan.
T: Isn't that nice.

T: Ladies, gentlemen, spiny-headed looking creatures, welcome to SlayFest '98.

W: It's my first big dance, you know. Where there's a boy, and a band.
And not just me alone in my room pretending that there's a boy and a band. I just want it to be...
X: Special. That's why I spared no expense on the tux.
W: The tux? I thought you borrowed it from your cousin Rigby?
X: Expense to my pride, Will. They're our only relations with money, and they shun us. As they should.

W: Remember that eighth grade cotillion, and you had that clip-on?
X: Yeah, I was pretty stylin' with the clip-on.
W: Now here we are, and it's Homecoming.
X: Yeah, we should face it, Will. You and I are going to be in neighboring rest homes, while I come over so you can adjust me... my, uh... Well, I can't think of anything that's not really gross, so...

X: So, you and Oz... how do I put this? Are we on first, second, or ye gods?
W: That's none of your business, Alexander Harris.
X: Oh, rounding second!
W: You don't know that! What about you and Cordelia?
X: Oh, a gentleman never talks about his conquests.
W: When did you become a... gentleman?

W: I know... "nice."
X: I was gonna go with "gorgeous."
W: Really? You too... in a guy way.
X: Oz is very lucky.
W: So's Cordelia. In a girl way.

X: That didn't just happen.
W: No! I mean, it did, but it didn't.
X: Because I respect you, and Oz, and I would never...
W: I would never, either. It must be the clothes. It's a fluke.
X: It's a clothes fluke, that's what it is. And there'll be no more fluking.
W: Not ever.
X: We got to get out of these clothes.
W: Right now!
X: Oh, I didn't mean...
W: I didn't, me either.

B: A campaign is like a war. It's won or lost in the trenches. Holly, Michelle, and our real competition, Cordelia, all have big head starts. And speaking of big heads, if I had a watermelon as big as Cordelia's, I'd be rich. < pause > Waits for laugh.

B: Now, this is just like any other popularity contest. I've done this before. The only difference being this time I'm not actually popular. Although I'm not exactly unpopular. A lot of people came to my welcome home party.
W: But they were killed by zombies.
B: Good point.

X: She's my girlfriend.
W: It's just that, she needs it so much more than you do.
O: As Willow goes, so goes my nation.

B: Hey.
W: Hi! How are you? Are you good? You look good. Anything new? Hey, did I mention you look good?
B: Willow, it's okay that you're helping Cordelia. We're best friends. I'm not going to hold it against you.
W: No, I'm not a friend, I'm a rabid dog who should be shot. But there are forces at work here, dark, incomprehensible forces.
B: And I'm sure they're more important than all we've been through together. Or the number of times that I've saved your life...
W: What do you want?
B: Fifteen minutes alone on your computer with Cordelia's database.
W: < very small > 'Kay.
B: Good!

B: Your brain isn't even connected to your mouth, is it?

X: Okay, let's not say something we'll regret later, okay?
C: You crazy freak!
B: Vapid whore!
X: Like that!

W: This is all our fault.
X: How do you get from chick-fight to our fault?
W: Because we felt so guilty about the fluke we overcompensated helping Cordelia, and we spun the whole group dynamic out of orbit, and we're just a big meteor shower heading for Earth...
X: Okay, calm down. Let's just put our heads together and think of something. Okay, now one of us here is pretty darn smart, and I'm... just in hell! I mean, I thought being a senior, at last, and having a girlfriend, at last, would be a good thing. Why wouldn't that be a good thing? What?
W: Sometimes when you're falling to pieces, your mouth, it just does the sweetest thing...

B: What's massively wrong with this picture?

T: Hello, ladies. Welcome to SlayerFest '98. What is a SlayerFest, you ask? Well, as in most of life, there's the hunters and the hunted. Can you guess where you two fall? From the beginning of this tape you have exactly 30 seconds -- no, that's 17 now -- to run for your lives. Faith, Buffy, have a nice death.
C: Hello? How stupid are you people? She's a Slayer. I'm a Homecoming Queen!

F: What are you two so mopey about?
X: We're not mopey. We're grooving. On Oz's band. He's a great guy, Oz.
W: He wrote this song for me.

G: We have to find Buffy. Something terrible's happened. Just kidding. Thought I'd give you a scare. Are those finger sandwiches?

C: Could I just ask you an eensy favor - could you just tell your friends that I'm not a Slayer?

F: Scott? There you are, honey! Hey, good news. The doctor says that the itching and the swelling and the burning should clear up, but we gotta keep using the ointment.

G: I suspect that the finger food contains actual fingers.

C: And now I'm never going to get the chance to tell him.
B: Yes you are. We are gonna get out of here, and we're gonna head back to the library, where Giles and the rest of the weapons live. Then I'm going to take out the rest of these guys, just in time for you to congratulate me on my sweeping victory as Homecoming Queen.
C: I know what you're up to. You think if you get me mad enough I won't be so scared. And hey, it's working! Where's a damn weapon?

B: You really love Xander?
C: Well, he kinda grows on you, like... a chia pet.

Demon: Want me to cut that leg off?
Jungle Bob: No, thanks.

C: Why is it, every time I go somewhere with you, it always ends in violence and terror?
B: Welcome to my life.

B: Cor, the gun! < bang > Cordelia, the spatula.

Gorch: Easy, darlin'! These things go through you faster than Grandpa Gorch's chili.

T: Excuse me! Anybody got a warrant here?

B: Jungle Bob and Spike-head are down now. We've lost the Germans twice but they seem to keep finding us. If we take them out and the Gorches, we can still make Homecoming.
C: Those animals! Hunting us down like poor defenseless... well, animals.

C: I hear you, you red-neck moron. You got a dress that goes with that hat?
Gorch: Oh, I'm gonna...
C: Rip out my innards, play with my eyeballs, boil my brain and eat it for brunch? Listen up, needle-brain, Buffy and I have taken out four of your cronies, not to mention your girlfriend.
Gorch: Wife!
C: Whatever. The point is, I haven't even broken a sweat. See, in the end, Buffy is just the runner-up. I'm the Queen. You get me mad - what do you think I'm gonna do to you?
Gorch: Later.

B: It gave Cor and I a chance to spend some quality death time.

B: I need some wet toilet paper.
C: Yeah, that'll help!

Mayor: That's an exciting suit.
T: Well, clothes make the man.
Mayor: Well, as I understand it, you're not a man, exactly.

W: They're going to announce the Queen. Where are they? What's keeping them?
O: I'm gonna go with mud-wrestling.
X: Oh, god! What did you two do to each other?
B: Long story.
C: Got hunted.
B: Apparently, not that long.

C: After all that we've been through tonight, this whole who-gets- to-be-Queen-capade seems pretty...
B: Damn important.
C: Oh, yeah!

Credit: The Sunnydale Slayers