
Toby: “No more smores, no more smores.”
Michael: Hello, I’m Broken Mountain.
Dwight: I would remove your teeth and cut off your fingertips so you could not be identified. And they would call me the Overkill Killer.
Michael: Blacks do crack! Not crack the drug.
Creed: I want pie. I want peach pie.
Creed: You tell her it’s for Creed. She’ll know what that means.
Michael: I have fashioned my hat back into my pants.
Michael: Ten years, you’ll figure it out.
Jim: Well, I don’t think I’ll be here in ten years.
Michael: That’s what I said. That’s what she said.
Jim: That’s what who said.
Michael: I never know. I just say it. I say stuff like that, you know, to lighten the tension. When things sort of get hard.
Jim: That’s what she said.
Michael: Hey! Nice. Really good. Bravo, my young ward.
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