B: If it weren't for that clouding spell...
W: Yeah, it went good. Nothing melted like last time.

F: These babes were wicked rowdy. What's their deal?

G: I was aware that there was a nest here, but, quite frankly, I expected it to be vampires. These are new.
B: And improved.

W: Are you okay?
X: Tip-top, really. If anyone sees my spine laying around, just try not to step on it.
B: Xander, one of these days you're gonna get yourself hurt.
F: Or killed.
B: Or both. And, you know, with the pain and the death, maybe you shouldn't be leaping into the fray like that. Maybe you should be... fray-adjacent.
X: Excuse me? Who, at a crucial moment, distracted the lead demon by allowing her to pummel him about the head?
F: Yeah, that was real manly how you shrieked and all.
X: I think you'll find that was more of a bellow.

B: Should I burn them?
W: I brought marshmallows! ... Occasionally, I'm callous and strange.

G: I'm more interested in finding what they are, and whether we can expect more of their kind.
B: I hope not. They're way too fit.

X: But gee, Mr. White, if Clark and Lois get all the good stories, I'll never be a good reporter.
G: Hmm?
X: Jimmy Olsen jokes are pretty much gonna be lost on you, huh?
G: Sorry.

JO: What are you, retarded?
X: No. No, I had to take that test when I was seven. A little slow in some stuff, mostly math and spatial relations, but certainly not challenged or anything.

JO: We're gonna kick your ass until it's a brand new shape.

C: Boy, of all the humiliations you've had I've witnessed, that was the latest.

C: O'Toole would macramé your face. He is a psycho... which is still a lot cooler than being a wuss.

X: Why is it that I've come face-to-face with vampires, demons, the most hideous creatures hell ever spit out, and I'm still afraid of a little bully like Jack O'Toole?
C: Because, unlike all those other creatures that you've come face-to-face with, Jack actually noticed you were there.
X: Why am I surprised by how comforting you're not?

C: "Cool." Look it up. It's something that a subliterate that's repeated 12th grade three times has and you don't.

C: There was no part of that that wasn't fun.

X: You're in a band. That's like a business-class ticket to cool with complimentary mojo after take-off. I gotta learn an instrument. Is it hard to play guitar?
O: Not the way I play it.
X: Okay, but on the other hand... Eighth grade, I'm taking the flugelhorn and getting zero trim, so the whole instrument thing could be a mislead.

X: What do I have?
O: An exciting new obsession. Which I feel makes you very special.
X: Now with the mocking.

B: And they're here in Sunnydale for what, Demon Expo?
G: Buffy, this is no laughing matter.
B: Hence my no laughing.

B: Do you remember the demon that almost got out the night I died?
W: Every nightmare I had that doesn't revolve around academic failure or public nudity is about that thing. In fact, once I dreamt that it attacked me while I was late for a test, and naked.

B: What is this?
X: What do you mean, what is this? It's my thing.
W: Your thing?
X: My thing.
B: Is this a penis metaphor?

B: It's nice.
X: Could you sound a little less enthused?
B: Sorry.
W: Evil.
X: Big?
B: Biggest.

C: Ooh, is some evil going on? Must be big for them to trust you with this daredevil mission.
X: Cordelia. Feel free to drop dead of a wasting disease in the next twenty seconds.
C: Oh, again I strike the nerve. I am the surgeon of mean.

Girl: How does she handle?
X: Like a dream about warm sticky things.

X: Angel! Buddy! Friend-buddy. You want to sit and talk?

X: You know, it's not like I haven't helped before. I've done some quality violence for these people.

B: "Sisterhood of Jhe. Race of female demons, fierce warriors..." Eww. "...celebrate victory in battle by eating their foes." They couldn't just pour Gatorade on each other?

X: I'm really sorry about that, but your car came out of nowhere.
JO: I was parked.

JO: Where do you want it?
X: I'm fairly certain I don't want it at all. But, uh, thank you.
Girl: Wow. Cool knife.
X: Yeah, great knife. Although I think it may technically be a sword.
JO: She's called Katie.
X: You gave it a girl's name. How very serial killer of you.

JO: Are you scared?
X: Would that make you happy?

JO: Don't you feel pathetic?
X: Mostly, I feel Katie.
JO: You know what the difference between you and me is?
X: Again, Katie's springing to mind.

Girl: I want to go for a ride. I'm bored.
X: Oh, gee, I'm really sorry my life-and-death situation isn't exciting enough for you.

JO: I like you.
X: Yay?

JO: Bob. You big, hideous corpse -- come here!

X: this time of night, I'm pretty sure nothing's open. //crash// But they're always open for crime. Okay, now I'm involved in crime. I'm the criminal element. Having a car sure is cool.

Corpse #2: You want to be part of the gang, now don't you?
X: Yes. Yes, but I'm not dying to be in the gang, if you get the pun there.
Bob: What, are you too good to be dead? You got a problem with dead people?

Corpse #2: Let's kill Xander. It'll be fun.

F: A fight like that and no kill. I'm about ready to pop.
X: Really? Pop?
F: you up for it?
X: Oh, I'm up. I'm suddenly very up. It's just, um, I've never been up with people before.
F: Just relax... and take off your pants.
X: Those two concepts are antithetical.
F: Don't worry. I'll steer you around the curves.

X: Long gone. Probably loaded with supplies. Gotta think. I can't believe I had sex. Okay, bombs. Already dead guys with bombs.

X: Okay, I can work this out. I just got to figure out what they'd be likely to bomb.

X: All right. I'm going to ask you this once, and you better pray you get the answer right.
Corpse #3: Okay, okay.
X: How do I defuse... //crunch// Aahh! I probably should have left out that whole middle part.

X: Where's a Slayer when you need one?

Bob: Good for chopping.

X: Should have learned by now. If you're gonna play with fire, you gotta expect sooner or later... I wasn't finished! Note to self: less talk.

X: Okay, boiler room. //monster head crashes through wall// Other way.

X: Hello nasty. Less than two minutes. Dumb guy, little bomb. How hard can it be?
JO: It just got harder.
X: I'm not leaving until that thing's disarmed.
JO: I guess you're not leaving.

JO: I'm gonna carve you up and serve you with gravy.

JO: First the eyes, then the tongue. I'll break every one of your fingers.
X: You gonna do all that in 49 seconds?

JO: I'm not afraid to die. I'm already dead.
X: Yeah, but this is different. Being blowed up isn't walking around and drinking with your buddies dead. It's little bits being swept up by a janitor dead, and I don't think you're ready for that.

Credit: The Sunnydale Slayers