Pushing Daisies

Ned: Stop smiling. Chuck: I can't help it, something's happening I never thought would happen. My dad's torturing my first boyfriend. Ned: Yay.

Emerson: Who are you? Willie: Willie Gherkin, Smiley Realty. Olive: Aw, you lost your smile, Pickle.

Emerson: Hey! Mood-Swing Sally, anchors aweigh!

Ned: The problem is, Lily and Vivian are right here, too, and for a couple of agoraphobes, they get around. We can't risk them coming back and discovering you, thereby discovering the truth about all of us. From there, it's a hop, skip, and a jump to angry mobs with pitchforks and torches.

Gus: I appointed Nora the lighthouse steward and the McQuoddys its guardian until the family line dies out or the sun swallows the Earth in a solar flare, killing us all.

Annabelle: Miss Snook, do you see how your pony death might make a mockery of our legitimate efforts? Olive: Do you see how you have cotton balls stuck to your ass?

Merle McQuoddy: Easy there, friend. Not foe. Emerson: Yeah, well we foe, fo' sho'. Emerson Cod, P.I., here to trawl your ass downtown.

Charles Charles: This isn't a life. This is a freak show. We're only freaks in Ned's world.

Annabelle: Miss Snook, I almost forgot. I told the notable widows your story, and it made us realize how very blessed we are. Olive: Oh. Annabelle: 'Tis better to have loved and lost than to be you.

Emerson: Come on, Papen. You two must have been swappin' somthin' other than historical factoids. Gus: Once… years ago. At the historical society Christmas party. Emerson: So, spurned lover spears her best friend, then frames ghost husband to take the fall. Let's rubber-cement her ass to a prison bed.

Merle McQuoddy: Because I'm a ghost with an alibi as thin as fishing line!

Annabelle: Life... you can't make this crap up.

Charles: Come with me, Button. Pie is… simple. It's limited. Just a bit of… pastry and filling. Cake is complex. Layered with treasures waiting to be discovered.

Emerson: Shut the a capella up.

Olive: You were getting down with the diorama dame. Gus: I damned that dame every time she made an advance.

Narrator: Annabelle Vandersloop did move on. She was no longer sad about losing Gus' love since a 30-year prison sentence gave her something to be truly sad about.

Narrator: As the tide turned for the Pie Maker, a turn of the tide allowed Emerson Cod and Olive Snook to turn their investigation to a sea cave.

Chuck: But it's just a normal father/daughter/daughter's boyfriend dynamic. Ned: No, it's not. Chuck: Why not? Because he's been dead for 20 years? Just… pretend he's been in a coma.

Emerson: That's some shady shadow puppet.

Lily: Damn it! And we are spittin' pissed at being served up a steaming plate of door! Vivian: I don't get pissed. A gypsy once told me it brings on hemorrhoids.

Chuck: (hugging Ned) I'll let you breathe in a minute, I promise. Ned: I'm good.

Ned: Are we together? Chuck: Mmm. We're so gethered, electrons couldn't get between us.

Emerson: Well, hate to be a bitch, but ain't no way in the world I'm taking this case.

Emerson: Mrs. McQuoddy? Present conditions are cold, rainy, with a 100% chance that "you're dead."

Emerson: Oh, Hell, we got a melty mouth.

Gus: Such a depressing word, "diorama." It has "die" in it. I like "rama."