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Johnny:Are you having lunch with Bev? After everything that happened between you two?

Moira:Well, I've decided to amputate that relationship.

Johnny:You mean cut it off?

Moira:Yes, well, when I amputate, I amputate completely.

Moira:Well, I simply had to ring her up. One cannot allow misinformation to spread unchecked through the town's collective big bazoo.

David:Where's breakfast?

Johnny:It's right here. Vodka, gin, rum.

David:Can we please just take the photo? I'm not going to get any happier than this.

Johnny:This is perfect. A framer.

Moira:I'm deleting it.

Moira:The air quality here is absolutely pristine. Have you noticed how crisp and clean everything smells?

Johnny:Everything seems better now that we're leaving.

Roland:I know what you're thinking, but hear me out. This truck is an investment. It's got leather seats, heated cup holders, and a sound system that'll make your fillings vibrate.

Johnny:Roland, didn't you just file for bankruptcy last month?

Roland:Exactly. Fresh start. New truck, new Roland.

Johnny:I think the concern is less about the truck and more about your ability to actually pay for it.

Roland:Details.

Jocelyn:I went to the spa yesterday and got a pedicure and a blowout at the same time. The aesthetician said, 'Just don't move your feet.' I said, 'Don't worry, my feet are very obedient.' Turns out they're not. I kicked over the nail polish, it went all over my hair, and now I have purple feet and blonde hair with sparkles in it. My husband asked if I was going through a phase.

Roland:You know what? I'm gonna bring some of Jocelyn's famous butter tarts down to the dealership. That salesman's gonna give me the premium package, the extended warranty, the whole nine yards.

Johnny:Roland, you can't bribe a car salesman with butter tarts.

Roland:Why not? Works on me. Works on the mayor. Works on basically everyone in this town.

David:Did you do something different with your hair?

Stevie:No, I just didn't wash it.

Moira:Well, Johnny, worry is just love with nowhere to go.

David:I'm thinking of getting him something that really captures the New York experience.

David:Maybe a mugging, or a really aggressive pigeon.

Stevie:Wait, you're not moving to California?

David:What? No. Why would I move to California?

Stevie:I don't know, I thought... isn't that where you're going?

David:I'm going for a trip. A trip, Stevie. Not to relocate my entire life. Why would you assume I'm moving? Why would everyone just uproot their lives and move to California with me?

Stevie:I needed to know that I could leave. I didn't actually need to leave. There's a philosophical distinction between needing to do something vs. needing to know you could.

Stevie:Wait, no, I didn't... Patrick didn't want... I wasn't supposed to say anything about the houses.

Stevie:Oh my God, I'm the worst. I'm literally the worst person.

Stevie:So you're just leaving?

David:I... well, yes, but I thought we had discussed this.

Stevie:We didn't discuss anything, David.

David:Oh. Oh no. We need to have a conversation, don't we?

Twyla:Oh, you brought the garbage?

Alexis:What? No, Twyla, these are my clothes. I'm getting rid of them.

Twyla:Oh! Well, they're all designer labels. These are nice things.

Alexis:I know, but I'm over them.

Alexis:Oh my god, Twyla, that's so sweet, but I can't let you do that. I mean, I appreciate it, but... you know what? Fine. But I'm tipping you like we're in a city, because I'm not about to become one of those people who tips poorly just because we're in a small town.

Twyla:I don't waitress for money.

Alexis:Oh my god, what do you do it for? Like, are you a serial killer? Do you kill people?

Twyla:I won the lottery.

Alexis:Oh my God! How much did you win?

Twyla:Seven dollars.

Alexis:Seven dollars? That's... that's amazing, Twyla!

Twyla:I won the lottery!

Alexis:Oh my God, how much?

Twyla:Well, it was $92 million, but I had to split it with someone.

Alexis:Oh no, that's terrible.

Twyla:So I ended up with $46 million.

Twyla:I just think if you have money, you should be responsible with it. You can't just go out and buy a lot of snowmobiles.

Alexis:Oh my god, what is this? This is... oh no. No, no, no. This is not going to Goodwill.

David:What? What is it?

Alexis:It's just something I wore to... you know what, never mind. It's staying in my closet.

Moira:I was perched atop a life-size VHS cassette in a sequined gown, one leg extended, my hair in a elaborate updo. It was very 'Flashdance meets archival technology.'

Moira:Yes. I mean, in the parlance of the affirmative, and with the kind of enthusiasm that one might reserve for a Chanel trunk show or a private audience with the Dalai Lama, I am inclined to acquiesce to your proposition.

Moira:Well, the actress who replaced me had a complete nervous breakdown on set, so they had no choice but to bring me back. I mean, I'd like to think it was my irreplaceable talent that drew them back, but it was really just her mental deterioration that made it convenient.

David:You're giving me the tennis bracelet?

Moira:Absolutely not. It's a Cartier. I'm merely allowing you to borrow it for the evening.

Patrick:I didn't want to overwhelm you with information.

David:Patrick, I'm a grown man. I can handle a house.

Patrick:I know, but I thought—

David:Unless you're talking about an actual house made of food plates. In which case, yes, I'm overwhelmed.

Patrick:So you didn't like New York?

David:No, I mean, I had a very nice time there. It's just that I was assaulted in a park, robbed twice, and I got hepatitis A. So, you know, mixed bag.

Patrick:So you're not missing New York?

David:No, I'm not missing New York. I spent years there being absolutely miserable, broke, and unappreciated.

Patrick:But you're happy here?

David:Deliriously.

David:I'm not going to Yankees games, Patrick. You're going to have to find new friends.

Patrick:What? Why would I need new friends?

David:Because I'm not interested in baseball, and clearly that's a dealbreaker for you.

Veronica:This show is absolute garbage! The writing is terrible, the acting is wooden, and I wouldn't watch this sh*t if you paid me!

Jocelyn:Oh my god, Veronica! Language!

Moira:You know, a wolf pack is only as strong as its weakest link. And together, we are an unstoppable force of nature. We hunt. We gather. We survive. We are the Jazzagals.

Moira:I've been thinking of myself as a wolf. A lone wolf, if you will. Prowling through the underbrush of life, my senses heightened, my instincts sharp. And then one day, I realize I'm not a wolf at all. I'm a butterfly. No, wait—I'm a phoenix. Actually, I'm a wolf again, but this time with wings. You see, the chrysalis of my former self has shed its skin like a snake, which I also am now.

Moira:I appreciate the gesture, I really do. But I'm not going to stand here and cry about my journey or whatever it is you're expecting. I've done enough emotional catharsis on Lifetime television to last me several lifetimes.

Moira:And frankly, I think we should all be very grateful that I'm not having a complete breakdown in a poorly lit motel room while a concerned love interest looks on.

Twyla:You know, what you said about spending on special things for yourself really resonated with me.

Alexis:Oh my god, that's so great!

Twyla:So I took your advice. I bought the café.

Alexis:Wait, what? No, I meant like a spa day or something.

Twyla:Well, this is my spa day now.

Twyla:You know, what Alexis said really resonated with me. She told me to spend a little money on myself.

Twyla:So I quit my job, bought a horse, and I'm moving to Costa Rica.

Twyla:I'm thinking of calling it 'The Café at the End of the Universe: A Rose by Any Other Name Would Smell as Sweet, But This One Smells Like Opportunity.'

Alexis:What about just calling it 'Twyla's Café'?

Twyla:No, that's too complicated.

Alexis:No, Twyla, I can't accept that. That's way too generous.

Alexis:I'm going to regret this immediately, aren't I?

David:That's a lovely dress, Twyla. Is it new?

Twyla:Oh, thank you David. No, it's not new. My friend let me borrow it.

David:Well, your friend has excellent taste.

Twyla:Yes, she really does. It's Alexis's.

Stevie:I don't understand how you think.

David:Yeah, well, join the club. I don't understand how I think either.

David:I was making a joke.

David:It was meant to be funny.

Alexis:Patrick is so thoughtful. He does all these sweet gestures.

David:Yes, well, some of us are simply not capable of that level of emotional generosity.

Alexis:David, you literally just said—

David:I'm aware of what I said, Alexis. And I stand by my assessment of my own moral deficiencies.

Stevie:So you want to go back to New York to prove something to the people who rejected you?

David:I don't want to prove something to them. I want to prove something to myself.

Stevie:By succeeding in front of the people who hurt you?

David:Yes. Is that... is that wrong?

David:They're all going to Coachella.

David:Apparently, it's the same weekend as my wedding, and they've already committed to the festival.

David:Because I need to prove to myself that I'm not a complete failure. And also, I'd like to prove it to everyone else who said I would be.

David:Do you smell that?

Stevie:Smell what?

David:That. That smell. It's absolutely putrid.

Stevie:I don't smell anything.

David:Well, it's either you or this place, and I'm fairly certain it's you.

Stevie:Oh, so now I smell?

David:I'm not saying you smell. I'm saying something about you smells.

Stevie:That's the same thing, David.

David:It really isn't. One is about your overall essence, the other is situational.

Stevie:You know what? I'm leaving.

David:Yes, please do.

David:This is like Les Misérables. I'm Jean Valjean stealing a loaf of bread to survive.

Johnny:Well, you're more like Javert chasing yourself around.

Johnny:Why don't we all play charades tonight?

Moira:Charades? Darling, I don't perform for free. I'm a trained actress with two Gemini nominations.

Moira:If you want me to act out words, you'll need to discuss my rate with my agent. Preferably in writing.

Moira:Charades? Darling, I don't do charades. I do interpretive movement, and it requires a Foley artist, a lighting designer, and ideally a small grants committee.

Moira:If we're playing games tonight, I'll need a contract, a rider, and someone to do my hair and makeup.

Moira:Also, I assume there will be craft services?

Moira:Charades? How delightful. I should warn you, I studied under a dialect coach in Montreal for six months, so my interpretations may be far too nuanced for this sort of thing.

Moira:I'm also going to need my own dressing room, and someone to do my hair and makeup beforehand.

Moira:And I'll need a contract stipulating that I receive top billing in any photographs taken during gameplay.

Moira:Well, you're going to New York alone? That's like a beautiful, exotic bird leaving the nest for the first time. You're going to soar, darling. You're going to soar so high that you won't even remember what the nest looked like.

Johnny:We're leaving tomorrow morning.

David:Tomorrow? But that's my wedding day!

Moira:Well, we've already booked our flights, and you know how impossible it is to get a decent seat assignment at the last minute. I'm not about to spend my honeymoon in coach.

Moira:Well, I'm not getting on a plane without a premium cabin experience. I don't care if we're fleeing the country.

Patrick:I'm going to spend the rest of my life making you happy.

David:Well, that's not going to happen. But I appreciate the sentiment.

David:Maybe we don't need a big wedding. We could just—

Patrick:What?

David:No, no, no. We're having a wedding. A big one. I've already mentally decorated the venue.