Pete: Look, Myka, why don't you pull your head out of your magenta and feel the room. Something's off.
Frederic: My name's Frederic.
Pete: Frederic what?
Frederic: Mrs. Frederic.
Pete: Well, that's a relief.
Pete: What's that?
Frederic: An invitation to endless wonder.
Pete: Okay, could you sound a little more creepy?
Artie: I'm thrilled you're on the team.
Myka: What team? What is this place?
Artie: Officially? K39 Triple C on the North American grid. But I like to think of it as America's attic.
Myka: Got some ID?
Artie: No. We take the secret part seriously around here.
Artie: Come on. Come on inside. I'll show you around.
Myka: Around what? What am I doing here.
Artie: I'll explain everything inside. Come on. I made cookies.
Myka: Tell me exactly what I'm doing here.
Artie: Exactly? Well, that's a little dif... Well, to put it plainly, uh, you're joining me as fellow gatherers and protectors of secrets.
Myka: Put it plainer.
Pete: So, okay, who are these guys?
Artie: Former colleagues.
Pete: And.. and where are they now?
Artie: Well, um, this one and this one are dead. This one, a mental institution in Germany. And this last one disappeared. One day I'll find him.
Artie: And that is exactly what we do here. We take the unexplained.. and we just safely tuck it away in this super-sized Pandora's Box.
Pete: Metaphorically speaking.
Artie: Well, actually, Pandora's box is over in Aisle 989-B. Empty, of course.
Artie: You, uh, wished for a transfer, didn't you? Oh, see, impossible wishes, wishes that can never be granted, they produce a ferret. Don't ask me why. My first year here, the whole place was crawling with ferrets.
Pete: So may I make a suggestion?
Myka: What might that be, hmm?
Pete: Unbunch your panties and make the best of a bad situation.
Myka: And how do I do that?
Pete: Which part?
Myka: You're a freak.
Pete: What about your folks?
Myka: Colorado Springs. They own a bookstore called Berring and Sons.
Pete: How many brothers?
Myka: No brothers, just me. My dad thought the "and Sons" sounded classier.
Pete: Well, he must be proud of you.
Myka: Mom is.
Pete: Well, did protecting the President of the United States turn him around?
Myka: Yeah. This will.
Artie: But we could be dealing with a time slip.
Myka: Or a hangover.
Artie: Hey! Please take this seriously. I had a run-in with a Mayan calendar a few years ago, and that question saved my life. And the two agents with me were not quite so lucky.
Myka: What happened to them?
Artie: Their clocks... stopped.
Pete: So, what? They died?
Artie: Well, they'll wish they had in a 100 years or so.
Myka: So it says here to turn left at Buffalo Station.
Pete: What? No, it's Buffalo Statue.
Myka: Well, your penmanship is atrocious.
Pete: I don't need wise... You know, that's, you know... Don't do that.
Myka: Can you finish the sentence? A full thought?
Pete: Uh, would you really like me to?