Xander: “So, Buffy, how’d the slaying go last night?”
Buffy: “Xander!”
Xander: “I mean, how’d the laying go? No, I don’t mean that, either!”
Oz: “So, do you steal weapons from the Army often?”
Willow: “Well, we don’t get cable, so we have to make our own fun.”
Xander: “You were looking at my neck.”
Angel: “What?”
Xander: “You were checking out my neck. I saw that.”
Angel: “No, I wasn’t.”
Xander: “Just keep your distance, pal.”
Angel: “I wasn’t looking at your neck.”
Xander: “I told you to eat before we left.”
Principal Snyder: “There are some things I can just smell. It’s like a sixth sense.”
Giles: “No, actually, that would be one of the five.”
Xander: “Danger? I laugh in the face of danger! And then I hide until it goes away.”
Buffy: “Are you crazy? You just don’t sneak up on people in a graveyard. You make noise when you walk, you stomp, or. . . yodel.”
Giles: “We’ll get our memory back, and it will all be right as rain.”
Spike: “Oh, listen to Mary Poppins. He’s got his crust all stiff and upper with that
nancy boy accent. You Englishmen are always so. . . bloody hell.”
(Counting on his fingers)
Spike: “Sodding, blimey, shaggin’, knickers, bollocks. Oh, God. I’m English.”
Giles: “Welcome to the nancy boy tribe.”
Willow: “I mean, why else would she be acting like such a b-i-t-c-h?”
Giles: “Willow, I think we’re a little too old to be spelling things out.”
Xander: “A bitca?”
Spike: “If every vampire who said he was at the Crucifixion was actually there is would’ve been like Woodstock. I was at Woodstock. I fed off a flower person and I spent six hours watching my hand move.”
(Buffy reading her mom’s thoughts)
Buffy: “You had sex with Giles? You had SEX with Giles?”
Joyce: “It was the candy, we were teenagers.”
Buffy: “On the top of a police car?”
Joyce: “I’ll be downstairs.”
Buffy: “TWICE?”
Buffy: “Oh, look at my poor neck. . . all bare and tender and exposed. All that blood, just pumping away.”
Giles: “Oh, please.”
Spike: “Giles, make her stop!”
Giles: “If those two don’t kill each other, I might lend a hand.”
Buffy: “Cool! Crossbow! Check out these babies. Goodbye stakes, hello flying fatality.”
Spike: “What’s this? Sittin’ around watching the telly while there’s evil still afoot? It’s not very industrious of you. I say we go out there and kick a little demon ass! What, can’t go without your Buffy, is that it? Let’s find her! She is the chosen one, after all. Come on! Vampires! Grrr! Nasty! Let’s annihilate them, for justice, and for. . . the safety of puppies. . . and Christmas, right? Let’s fight that evil! Let’s kill something! Oh, come on!”
Buffy: “I thought a professional demon chaser like yourself would’ve figured it out by now. I’m the Slayer. Slay-er. Chosen One. She-who-hangs-out-a-lot-in-cemeteries? You’re kidding. Ask around. Look it up: ‘Slayer, comma, the.’”
Willow: “I just talked to Buffy, and yeah, I think she’s feeling a little. . . insane. No, not bitchy crazy, more like homicidal maniac crazy. So I told her to come see you, ‘kay?”
Anya: “This isn’t a relationship. You don’t need me. All you care about is lots of orgasms.”
Xander: “Okay, remember how we talked about private conversations? How they’re less private when they’re in front of my friends?”
Spike: ”Oh, we’re not your friends. Go on.”
Giles: ”Please don’t.”
Spike: “We’re out of Wheat-a-Bix.”
Giles: “We are out of Wheat-a-Bix because you ate it all. Again.”
Spike: “Get some more.”
Giles: “I thought vampires were supposed to eat blood.”
Spike: “Yeah, well, sometimes I like to crumble up the Wheat-a-Bix in the blood. Gives it a little texture.”
Giles: “Since the picture you just painted means that I will never touch food of any
kind again, you’ll just have to pick it up yourself.”
Spike: “Sissy.”
Xander: “Cavalry’s here! Cavalry’s a scared guy with a rock, but it’s here!”
Willow: “Oz is a werewolf.”
Buffy: “It’s a long story.”
Oz: “Got bit.”
Buffy: “But obviously not that long.”
Xander: “I still don’t know why we had to come here to look up information on a killer snot monster.”
Giles: “Because it’s a killer snot monster from outer space. I did not say that.”
Xander: “All right, where is he? Where’s the creep who turned me into a spider-eating
man-bitch?”
Buffy: “He’s gone.”
Xander: “Dammit. You know what? I’m sick of this. I’m tired of being the guy who eats insects and gets the funny syphilis. As of this moment, it’s over. I’m through being everybody’s butt-monkey!”
Buffy: “Check. No more butt-monkey.”
Xander: “We’re in the Crime Club, which is kind of like the Chess Club. Only with Crime. And no Chess.”
(Waking from a nightmare)
Willow: "Don't warn the tadpoles!"
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