Xander: It's officially nippy. So say my nips.
Cordelia: It's about time our school excelled at something.
Willow: Hmm. You're forgetting our high mortality rate.
Xander: That's wrong. A big fat spanking wrong. It's a slap in the face to every one of us who studied hard and worked long hours to earn our D's.
Xander: And what about that nutty 'all men are created equal' thing?
Cordelia: Propaganda spouted out by the ugly and less deserving.
Xander: I think that was Lincoln.
Cordelia: Disgusting mole and stupid hat.
Willow: Actually, it was Jefferson.
Cordelia: Kept slaves. Remember?
Cameron: Relax, I'm not going to hurt you.
Buffy: Oh, it's not me I'm worried about.
Buffy: So I'm treated like the baddie, just because he has a sprained wrist and a bloody nose... and I don't have a scratch on me... which, granted, hurts my case a little, on the surface...
Xander: In other words, this was no boating accident.
Buffy: So something ripped him open and ate out his insides?
Willow: Like an Oreo Cookie. Well, except for, you know, without the chocolatey cookie goodness.
Buffy: Any demons with high cholesterol?...You're gonna think about that later, mister, and you're gonna laugh.
Xander: Well, it was dark! And the thing went through the window so quick, and I was a... little shocked when I saw it, and...
Cordelia: Go ahead. Say it. You ran like a woman.
Cordelia: God, this is so sad. We're never gonna win the state championship. I think I've lost all will to cheerlead.
Xander: Raise your hand if you feel her pain.
Buffy: You should question him.
Willow: Really? Me? I'll crack him like an egg.
Cordelia: Well, you could go out to the parking lot and practice running like a man.
Buffy: I'm a swim groupie. Oh, yeah, you know, there's just something about the smell of chlorine on a guy. Oh, baby.
Buffy: Obviously, my sex appeal is on the fritz today...
Angelus: Why, Miss Summers! You're beautiful!
Cordelia: I thought Angel liked blood.
Buffy: He used to.
Willow: Maybe his eyes were too big for his stomach.
Xander: I'm undercover!
Buffy: Not under much.
Xander: I figure, I can keep an eye on Gage and the others when Buffy can't.
Willow: When you're nude? I meant to say changing.
Xander: Okey-dokey, coachie.
Cordelia: I'm dating a swimmer from the Sunnydale swim team!
Buffy: You can die happy.
Xander: He was right behind me, putting his sneakers on. But it's not the Velcro kind, so give him a couple of extra minutes
Xander: Sure. The discus throwers got the best seats at all the crucifixions.
Buffy: I think we'd better find the rest of the swim team and lock them up before they get in touch with their inner halibut.
Coach Marin: You got some imagination, Missy.
Buffy: Oh, well, right now I'm imagining you in jail. You're wearing a big orange suit, and, oh look, the guards are beating you up.
Coach Marin: Boy, when they were handin' out school spirit, you didn't even stand in line, did you?
Buffy: No. I was in the line for shred of sanity.
Cordelia: You were so courageous. And you looked really hot in those Speedo's.
Cordelia: And I want you to know that I still care about you, no matter what you look like. And... and we can still date. Or, or not. I mean... I understand if you wanna see other fish.
Cordelia: I think we can safely say we've found Sean. He was in the pool skinless-dipping.
Buffy: Great. This is just what my reputation needs: that I did it with the entire swim team.
Coach Marin: How you feeling?
Xander: Little dry. Nothing a lemon butter sauce won't cure.
Buffy: Those boys really love their coach.
Xander: Let's see. I gotta take a make-up chem test at three. And then I'm meetin' some of the guys for plasma transfusions at five. It's turned into quite the busy afternoon.
Buffy: The fun never stops with you, does it?
