Where the Wild Things Are
Buffy: Think about it...who better to bring together a bunch of demon types than someone who's made out of a bunch of demon types?
Tara: So, he's, um, bridging the gap between the races.
Willow: Huh. Like Martin Luther King.
Xander: Is it me? Am I the crazy one?
Buffy: Uh-huh. Absolutely.
Willow: Hey, Buffy? This might be a good time to mention that someone so not me spilled something purpley on your new peasant top, which I would never borrow without asking. Still love me?
Buffy: Uh-huh.....Huh? What about my peasant top?
Willow: Nothing.
Willow: Horses. Like...big, tall, teeth that can take your arm off horses?
Tara: Well, sure. I learned to ride when I was a kid. It's fun. And, by the way, most horses don't like arm very much.
Willow: I had a bad birthday party pony thing when I was four. I look at horses and I see really big ponies.
Willow: Ghost boy, drowning in tub. I tried to save him, but...being a ghost already, well, I was way too late.
Willow: Now I remember why I used to have such a crush on him.
Tara: Well, he is pretty good.
Anya: His voice is...pleasant.
Xander: What?
Willow: Come on. He is kinda sexy.
Tara: We implore you...be still.
Giles: Find it in your hearts to leave our friends passage.
Willow: Transform your pain. Release your past...and...get over it.
Willow: Come on, you have to admit, it was kind of sexy.
Xander: Please stop saying that.
Willow: It must have been horrible.
Buffy: Yeah. Horrible.
Riley: Uh-huh. It was bad.
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