Buffy: So a mythic triumph over a completely indifferent foe?
Giles: Well, I'm not dead or unconscious, so I say bravo for me.
Riley: Owning this place does seem kinda dangerous.
Buffy: He called you a toth. It's a British expression. It means, like, moron.
(at the city dump)
Riley: What are you doing here, Spike?
Spike: Oh, there's a nice lady vampire who set up a charming tearoom over the next pile of crap.
Giles: Spike, um, we're looking for a demon, tall, robed, skin sort of hanging off, deep voice.
Spike: (pointing behind them) You mean a great, tall robey thing like that one?
Buffy: Well, if this guy wants to fight with weapons, I've got it covered from "A" to "Z" – from "Axe" to... "Zee other axe."
Buffy: We better get there soon. If Xander kills himself, he's dead. You know what I mean.
Riley: Psychologically, this is fascinating. Doesn't it want to make everyone else lock them in separate rooms and do experiments on them? (off everyone's look) Just me then.
Anya: Well, maybe we shouldn't do this reintegration thing right away. See, I can take the boys home and, you know, we can all have sex together, and then, you know, just just slap 'em back together in the morning.
Xander Double: She's joking.
Xander: No, she's not! She entirely wants to have sex with us together, which is... wrong, and – and it would be very confusing.
Giles: We just need to arrange the candles. Also, we should continue to pretend we heard none of the disturbing sex talk.
Willow: Check. Candles and pretence.
Anya: Well, what do we do if it doesn't work?
Xanders: Kill us both, Spock!
Buffy: They're kinda the same now.
Giles: Yes, he's clearly a bad influence on himself.