Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Giles: Would someone please rip that bloody bell off its hinges? Xander: Would that involve moving? Willow: My feet are numb. Xander: I'll see your numbness and I'll raise you a lower back pain. Giles: I think I liked it better when demons would just crash in here and tear the place apart. Just seemed so much simpler. Anya: You're out of crystal balls. Those babies are really popular with the amateurs. Better re-stock and raise the price 10%. Make it 15. Giles: Anya... Anya: Your cash register looks like squirrels nest in it. Giles: Anya... Anya: And the Hand of Glory packs some serious raw power. Better institute a seven-day background check for- Giles: Anya! (beat) Would you like a job? Anya: Okay. Giles: Good. Then we can talk shop tomorrow. Anya: Okay... boss.

Anya: (smiling as she finishes a sale) Please Go! Xander: Anya, the Shopkeepers' Union of America called -- they want to tell you that "please go" just got replaced with "have a nice day". Anya: But I have their money, who cares what kind of day they have? Xander: No one. It's just a long cultural tradition of raging insincerity. Embrace it. Anya: (looks up at an exiting customer) Hey you! Have a nice day!

Buffy: I think we should get a second opinion. Joyce: Well, we need a first opinion first, honey.

Dawn: Check out all the magic junk. Giles: Our new slogan.

Dawn:(to Buffy) You said it'd be easier if you didn't have to look out for anybody. Buffy: Well, I wasn't talking about Riley. Riley: Don't worry about it. Dawn: Oh, she just said you look even cuter when you're all weak and kitteny and she'd better go solo or you'd get hurt. So welcome to the club. She'll never let me go either

Buffy: I just had a bad day. Dawn: Well, join the club. Buffy: Can I be president? Dawn: I'm president. You could be the janitor.

Buffy: I'm sorry. Dawn: You hurt my arm. Buffy: I know. Dawn: Butthole. Buffy: Really sorry. Dawn: I tell you I have this theory? It goes where you're the one who's not my sister. 'Cause mom adopted you from a shoebox full of baby howler monkeys and never told you 'cause it could hurt your delicate baby feelings. Buffy: That's your theory? Dawn: Explains your fashion sense. And your smell.

Monk: For centuries it had no form at all. My brethren, its only keepers. Then the abomination found us. We had to hide the Key, gave it form, molded it flesh... made it human and sent it to you. Buffy: Dawn... Monk: She's the Key. Buffy: You put that in my house? Monk: We knew the Slayer would protect. Buffy: My memories... my mom's? Monk: We built them. Buffy: Then un-build them! This is my life you're- Monk: You cannot abandon. Buffy: I didn't ask for this! I don't even know... what is she? Monk: Human... now human. And helpless. Please... she's an innocent in this. She needs you. Buffy: She's not my sister? Monk: She doesn't know that.

Glory: (to Buffy) Wait, I've always wanted to try this. You know that thing with worms, where if you have one, and you rip it in half, you get two worms? Do you think that'll work with you? (Buffy hits her) You hit me! What, are you crazy? You can't go around hitting people. What, were you born in a barn?

Glory: I just want you to know -- this whole "beat you to death" thing I'm doing is valuable time out of my life that I'm never going to get back.

Willow: Does this look right to you? Anya: Sure, if you wrapped it with your feet.

Glory: You know, when you think about it, I'm the victim here. First off, I don't even want to be here. And I'm not talking about this room or this city or this state or this planet. I'm talking about the whole mortal coil now, you know? It's disgusting! The food... the clothes... the people. I could crap a better existence than this.

Giles: Did you see that? Customers, real live customers. They came in, and I gave them things, and they gave me money, and then they left! It's brilliant! Willow: Congratulations. You're an official capitalist running dog.

Ben: Hey! It's Buffy, isn't it? Ben... but you can call me man-nurse. Everybody else here does.

Joyce: I get to worry about you two, which is a good thing, because you're a Vampire Slayer. And you, you are my little punkin' belly. Dawn: Mom, that's, like, my kid name. Joyce: So, I can't be retro? Buffy: Did you ever have any names for me? Joyce: No, I think you were always just Buffy. Dawn: I got some names for ya.

Joyce: The headaches they said would go away came back and brought some friends along with.

Joyce: Oh! Check out the "Pamper Mom" platter. You two do all this? Dawn: Oh, Buffy helped. Buffy: I didn't "help"... Joyce: I'm sure you did. So neither of you is pregnant, failing or under indictment? Just checking.

Vamp: I've always wanted to kill the Slayer. Buffy: And I've always wanted piano lessons. Really, who's surprised we have all this unexpressed rage? But honestly, I think I'm expressing mine better. Tell you what... you find yourself a good anger management class, and I'll jam this pokey wood stick through your heart. (stakes the vampire) I think that sets the world speed record for closure.

Buffy: Don't take this the wrong way, but... (punches Spike in the nose) ...what are you doing here? Five words or less. Spike: Out. For. A. Walk.... Bitch. You know, contrary to one's self-involved world-view, your house happens to be directly between... parts... and other parts of this town. And I would pass by in the day, but I feel I'm outgrowing my whole "burst into flame" phase. Buffy: Fine. Keep going, I'll cut you a break. Spike: Oh, yeah. Okay, let me guess... you won't kill me? Wooo... the whole crowd-pleasing threats-and-swagger routine. How stunningly original. I'm just passing through, satisfied? You know, I really hope so because God knows you need some satisfaction in life besides shagging Captain Cardboard and I never really liked you anyway and... and you have stupid hair.

Buffy: Actually, I have a little scooby-centric deal to deal with first. (pulls out the Dagon Sphere) I put this before the group... what the hell is it? Giles: It appears to be paranormal in origin. Willow: How can you tell? Giles: Well it's so shiny.

Anya: (to a customer who just finished her purchase) Please go. Xander: Anya, the Shopkeepers of America Union just called. They wanted me to tell you that "Please go" just got replaced with "Have a nice day." Anya: But I have their money. Who cares what kind of day they have? Xander: No one. It's just a long cultural tradition of raging insincerity. Embrace.

Dawn: What are you doing? Buffy: (Sarcastically) My boyfriend, go away.

Giles: Xander, there's too many of them... people! And they all seem to want things. Xander: I hear ya. Stay British. You'll be okay. (walks away from Giles) Xander: The Thousand Yard Stare. Damn! You hate to see it on any man, but especially in retail.