The NatPack doesn't suffer from diffusion of responsibility; it suffers from diffusion of intellect.
We bounced at you and you suddenly teleported across the baggage claim and were hugging us.
It's not boxes of fruit, it's boxes of liquid fruit.
By the way, Laura, welcome to the Amazing Topic Change Conversation From Hell.
This new Fx channel's gonna be the death of me.
Oh, I'm confusing my new trash TV shows.
Jessica is now kind of dating Han Solo.
I walked in and here was Han Solo in a Babylon-5 t-shirt.
I need to make a list of things that ring oogy bells.
Laura's the only non-evil quote person in the car.
Merging in Texas usually involves shotguns.
Of course she's making gooby faces; she's Perri.
Okay, I'm knocking on wood pulp.
That was a really big thingie sentence.
Thank you, thank you. Bow, bow.
It's a sound that new brakes generally make.
It's a bathroom pow-wow. Kinda like a drum ritual, but not.
Didn't someone insert "naked" after drum ritual?
I'm not up on my McDonald's Pantheon.
It's the chink in the armor of the Waffle House.
Yeah, a dramatic reading of the news.
Oooh! Oooh! Pretty chocolate!
'Mated with' implies no clothing and mad animal sex.
Welcome to mangled proverbs.
Left alone with coconut-loving heathens? I don't think so.
They're not on the floor; they're on the bananas.
We haven't had a breast quote yet. I'm proud of us.
Well, we've had our breast quote.
Follow that segue--it's getting away!
Blinkers are your friends.
It's so precious!
You don't want to know anything about the mating habits of the Waffle House?
Only 7 additional humans?
Look: hair thingie, natural enemy of the kitty. ...Valiant kitty vanquished the hair thingie.
Come here, honey, I will worship you.
Perri, wanna help me kill them? Oh, wait, you're asleep. Wanna help me kill them tomorrow?
Double your Slayer and double your fun. Angel gets two and Xander gets none.
Cool. Thank you. Mine-mine-mine.
And he usually dies after being fondled by several attractive women for no apparent reason whatsoever.
Just ignore them and let them go play with themselves in the corner.
Laura, you're stereoing with NatPackers--you scared yet?
Living vicariously through her daughter's fandoms...that's scary.
This is why I've had "Happy Phantom" running through my head for the last two days. Don't ask.
Methos? Never heard of him. My name is...[simultaneously] George.
Set your phasers for "spuh."
That's insane--but it's you.
Paint himself blue and hang off the warp coils?
Oh, that's semi-frightening.
Then there's the Curious Case of Maureen.
For Halloween, you have to costume for civilians.
I was hoping if I didn't aim at anything it would hit something.
Multiple Bonds?
Yes, try to climb over all the NatPackers...and whatnot.
I thought you said "hedgehogs in residence." I was really good.
I know we have a bag of food because it has yummy stuff in it.
That's okay. My ears are tired. In fact, they're asleep--let me stamp them to wake them up.
Pouting does you no good.
Who's the geeky guy in the natty sweater?
So are we all wenching it at Faire?
Faire is the holodeck.
Amoeba hug.
You pretty much take a baby step away from Catholicism and everyone's going, "Pope, schmope."
How do you feel about crossing the street, babe?
Perri's more fun than cartoons.
She's got it. The eyebrows moving independently, not only of each other, but of any other cells in her body.
Something is rousing the Perri-unit.
Let there be light.
And which country are we from today?
You announce all your actions beforehand in Valerie-land.
Ah-ah-ah-ah! Shit!
I think I would rather not plug this into a source of electricity again.
Somebody did a study and realized that writing is like English.
You're putting Xander on transporter duty. You've lost all claim of innocence.
The locusts descend upon Betsy.
Neelix's cooking. Al's cooking. Need we say any more?
Okay, how many of us are going to be making extra comm badges on the replicators to take home? [hands go up everywhere]
Skippy's Evil Twin.
Okay, so, Katie gets a hold of the Q-Auryn, and there's a Starbuck's on Voyager.
The words "sick and twisted" seem to be a recurring theme.
Excuse me. I just put Mr. Worf on call waiting.
The higher the body count on stage, the higher the quote count backstage.
We have eighteen people. We kill a couple of them twice.
They're helpful in their own, sweet, strange way.
Because it didn't kill enough guys.
I have a drug pen.
And once a day you pop out of the lawn.
The Tanya Huff "Blood-insert-thingie-here" series.
She could give him his personal pronouns for Christmas.
I mean, it's a rule: Harry has to die at least three more times before he gets promoted.
Little did you know that Voyager was designed by Escher.
She doesn't sing to perform; she sings when the spirit moves her.
She would hate it a lot as a general thing.
I will acknowledge that he's dead, but I'm not happy about it. Therefore I will mantra.
Did you...did anyone else...oh, never mind.
We're NatPackers. We don't need no stinkin' ideas.
Amy, if anything comes up for Redemption that you think I'd want to know about, could you scribble it down with the rest of my scribblings?
Who do we have besides our two?
You don't have the Cold War to fall back on. It's really annoying.
The dog would go, "Oh, that's bad. I'll let the kid drink it and see what happens."
They're uncommon. They're uncommonly bad.
I watched the first episode and, it was just so boring... I mean, not Millennium-boring.
We should stumble under our burdens and claim vampires attacked us.
We get multiple things going.
Do damage! Don't just sit there and cower, you little twit!
That's the only distinction in Spanish between it and potato.
It's always good to know that my friends are here to insult me whenever I need it.
Angels, they fly? They drive.
It's a message.
The Masai tribesmen have a lot of fun making up stories to tell the white guys who come around asking questions.
Welcome to the B-plot, Sydney Bloom.
If for some weird reason you feel like watching this Conan series....
Well, if your happiness meets our happiness, then...
NatPack, ho!
Pod can be Barbie.
My butt's numb.
We're the Psycho Bitch From Hell's fan club.
Laura, you and I are garb free-loaders and proud of it.
Ooh! Chain mail!
And the Fool walks in on a cleavage discussion.
Gee, should we pick up the axe murderer?
The Power Hungry Psycho Bitch needs a desperate shower.
We've Buffy-ized Shakespeare.
It's soy-so.
I think we're getting close to 'fuck me' territory.
Sure. We'll come up and throw a cat at you.
I attach everything to thongs and force it to be dangleable.
I'd share your obsession.
I'd write that down, but the quote list is over there.
You could scoot stuff off Betsy and sit on her, but I don't think she'd be happy about it.
Perri is attempting to form a thought.
I think you should not be able to keep a quote list around me until I've been awake for at least an hour.
I'd say, "Die, Tina," but I need you right now, so you live.
I'd think "Die, Tina, die" would be 'Insert Stock Phrase 17' by now.
Tina, I think that's yours.
So. What should I put on?
This backrub has been interrupted by our Emergency Quotelist System.
Which one?
I need someone to pull my shift.
The Stages of Bodice:
Stage One: "Hi. I'm so-and-so, and these are my breasts."
Stage Two: "Hi. These are my breasts, and my name is so-and-so."
Stage Three. "Hell-LO! I have a name!"
You just need to find the right string to pull.
Where's the quote list?
Right now, the guy in black is thinking, "That's what I need. A cape."
Cleavage peer pressure!
Iced tea flow charts. What an idea.
Ow! Ow! Ow! That's the pointy part!
You're beating the android.
There's a bobbin in my mug.
We stuffed her and mounted her.
Does your quote list hang low?
And it doth go 'spuh.'
There's something sticking out there and it's your boob.
It was a nine-ribbon pileup.
Plastic? How am I supposed to stake him with plastic?
The coffin is empty.
It's not the size of the stake that counts...
Are we all staked?
Ladies, start your stakes.
You can't stake her; she's a slayer!
It was a match made in heaven...or at least a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...
I want drinkage as opposed to suckage.
Close, but no heart.
He's all heart. That way, if you stab him anywhere it works.
You don't want a nice pattern in your sunburn?
If you'd been wearing green glasses you could be the Kermit Slayer.
Plastic stakes aren't period.
And we're like, fannish exit.
Nay! Nay! I got them out of Valerie's fridge. ...I think.
I have to read them before I can read them.
It happened because Tara and Jessica are in the same space and create words.
Didn't you say that, Betsy?
We have a new mantra-sister!
If there were a God in Heaven, there'd be no such thing as quote list.
The beer is in the pickup truck.
You hurt your own head.
You want to sit with stranger?
I was making perfect sense.
I was just sitting here, thinking, "Maureen's life is just so boring without potato famines."?
We'll get money for it.
Betsy took a nap. ...Perri is choking.
What do you think about those girls, huh? Pretty weird...
You can't turn around at Bristol without hitting the ground.
Love you, Perri. And quoting you too.
You can write that down before you go.
We don't need another part thirteen of Angel Naked. Did you see the look on her face?
I think now the quote list ends.
That would be a typo originally.
I'm sure your cooties are fine and honorable ones.
Here, have trash.
Welcome to Flexible Ethics 101.