Parker: I wish we had lasers.
Alec: Put it in the suggestion box.
Alec: We brew our own beer now.
Parker: Yeah, and we’re calling “Thief Juice. “Tastes like bad guys.”
Alec: Hey, no, we’re not. I told you... the suggestion...
Parker: “Thief Juice.” “It’s a Mouth Crime.”
Alec: Suggestion box.
Nate: Portland is, uh, odd.
Sophie: Very, very wet. We’re gonna have to have a serious talk about moving to somewhere with less rain.
Hardison: London has rain.
Sophie: No, London has fog. Fog is mysterious. Rain just ruins my hair.
Eliot: Nine out of ten restaurants fail. Especially when you’re... you can’t put anchovies and pineapple on the same pizza.
Alec: Obviously, you do not have a refined taste palette.
Eliot: Don’t come crying to me when this thing goes bankrupt.
Eliot: I’m only going to say this once, boys. Give me the... teddy bear.