The Head: I see you're lookin' at my watch.
The Head: It's cool, isn't it? That's a Japanese pie watch.
Liz: Oh, OK.
The Head: It tells time with those little pie pieces. Each piece is six minutes, so right now it's - six times four - 5:30? That can't be right.
Liz: My watch has these little hands that go around and point at numbers.
The Head: Hey, that's awesome, possum.
Jack: This year I'll be a page for a day, and you'll be my boss.
Kenneth: Thank you, sir.
Jack: That's how the "Bottoms Up" program works. I'm gonna be your bottom, Kenneth, and I want you to ride me as hard as you can.
Tracy: (to Kenneth) Me, Toofer, and Frank are gonna be writing my book all day long, and I think my snake is sick, so I need you to go out to my car and rub his belly till he poops.
Frank: According to Wikipedia, you were discovered after doing stand-up at the Apollo in 1984.
Tracy: I have no memory of that. Write it up.
Liz: The Hair asked me out.
Jenna: What, the The Hair? What did you say?
Liz: I had to say yes. I mean, he looked at me with those crazy handsome guy eyes. It was like the Death Star tractor beam when the Falcon–
Jenna: No, Liz, do not talk about stuff like that on your date. Guys like that do not like Star Trek.
Liz: (defensively) Wars!
Liz: It feels wrong. He's The Hair, and I am a Head Plus, at best.
Jenna: Or maybe you really are The Hair and I'm The Head in our relationship. Oh, God, no.
Liz: No, something is wrong with this. I have upset the natural balance of things.
Jack: (dressed as a page) Good morning, ladies. I'm making a coffee run. Would either of you care for anything?
(Liz and Jenna stare at him, confused and silent)
Jack: (writing) Liz and Jenna: nothing. (he leaves)
Liz: What's happening?
Jenna: (scared) I don't know.
(cleaning up Brian Williams' dressing room)
Jack: Is this tube sock filled with birdseed?
Kenneth: Oh, yes, sir. Just put it in the basket with the others.
(Liz, at a party, calls Jenna)
Jenna: Hey, how's it going?
Liz: Terrifying. It's too much. I just wanna go home and watch that show about midgets and eat a block of cheddar cheese.
Liz: If you're a gay guy looking for a beard, I don't do that anymore. And if you're trying to harvest my organs and sell them, I have an uncle who's a cop, so don't even try.
Gray: Hey, we all have uncles who are cops, so just take it down a notch.
Tracy: 1998... Well, I spent most of the summer in the studio doing my Christmas album, which was huge!
Toofer: I'm almost afraid to ask. What Christmas album?
Tracy: (singing) Imagine Christmas wishes, shooting out of your eyes. A candy cake full of snow dreams, a stocking full of smiles. It's a Jordan Christmas!
Frank: I remember that. That video was raunchy.
Gray: Did you get home OK last night?
Liz: Yeah. Thank you for convincing me to go back to the party. It was fun. Although I ate way too much oxygen.
Jack: Kenneth, you and I actually have a lot in common. We're both hard workers. When I was your age, it was putting myself through college in Boston paddling swan boats for the tourists.
Kenneth: Is that a euphemism for some kind of sex worker?
Jack: I had drive, and it disappoints me to see you without a dream, content with this meaningless, pitiful job.
Kenneth: Do you know why I put up with this "pitiful job," Mr. Donaghy? Why I fetch these folks' lunches and clean up their barfs? Because they make television. And more than jazz or musical theater or morbid obesity, television is the true American art form. Think of all the shared experiences television has provided for us. From the moon landing, to the Golden Girls finale. From Walter Cronkite denouncing Vietnam, to Oprah pulling that trash bag of fat out in a wagon. From the glory and the pageantry of the Summer Olympics, to the less fun Winter Olympics. So, please, don't tell me I don't have a dream, sir. I am living my dream.
(Kenneth explains his idea for the show Gold Case)
Executive: Have you pitched this idea to anybody else?
Kenneth: Well, I talked to Moonvest over at CBS.
Executive: Les Moonves, President of CBS, knows about this?
(cut to a flashback of Kenneth talking to an old homeless man wearing a vest covered in moon shapes)
Kenneth: Hey, Moonvest, I got an idea for a game show last night.
Moonvest: Gimme your fingernails!
Kenneth: No! (rides off on his bicycle)
Executive: How do we make your show?
Kenneth: (confused) I thought y'all would know where to get cameras and stuff...
Jack: I think he means, how much do you want for it?
Kenneth: Oh. As far as compensation goes, I would like to be officially the head of the pages, and I need a new clock radio.
Jack: (whispering in Kenneth's ear) You've got it up there. Now, snap it off.
Kenneth: Also, I want five points on the back end, 20% gross on merchandising, and a creator credit on this and any international editions. And a clock radio.
(Tracy, Toofer, and Frank are almost done with Tracy's book)
Tracy: And that's how 2006 ended. 2007...
Toofer: I can't believe this. We're actuaully gonna pull this off.
Tracy: It was early January 2007 when I got the idea to write my autobiography, so I took a meeting at Random House, and I went in and talked to this editor about it, and this dude looked me straight in the eyes and said, "No, Mr. Jordan. No thank you. We do not want your book." (Toofer and Frank stop typing and look up at Tracy) Oops. My bad. That's on me. Shut it down.
(Liz has just found out she's related to Gray)
Liz: OK, on the count of three, say what level of cousins we would have to be for this to be OK. 1, 2, 3...
Liz: Unacceptable no matter what.
Liz: This is what I get for trying to be somebody I am not. (she starts to leave)
Gray: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa! Look, I meant what I said earlier. You are a Hair, Liz Lemon. It's in our blood. Accept it. Embrace it. (pauses) I think we're third cousins.
Liz: Yeah, I'll see you at the reunion.