Moving On

David Wallace:Andy, you told me you were in the office all day. But security footage shows you weren't here.

Andy:No, no, no, David. Oscar greeted me when I came in this morning.

David Wallace:So?

Andy:So if I wasn't here, how would Oscar have greeted me? Case closed.

Andy:I've been treating my facial hair as emotional support.

Andy:You know, I'm really grateful for this opportunity. I feel like I'm standing on the shoulders of giants. People like... Lionel Richie.

David Wallace:That's... not who I brought in.

Andy:Wait, Vanilla Ice was a band?

Dwight:No, he was a solo rapper.

Andy:Oh. I thought he was a band.

Andy:I'm fine. Everything's fine. I'm handling this great.

Andy:*breaks down sobbing*

Andy:So, um, Jessica and I have decided to go our separate ways. It's amicable, and we both wish each other the best.

Andy:We just realized we weren't compatible. These things happen in relationships, and we're handling it maturely.

Andy:I mean, sure, it hurts a little bit, but I'm going to be fine. We'll both move on and find happiness elsewhere.

Andy:Why did she have to leave me?! We were so perfect together! I gave her everything!

Andy:I'M NEVER GOING TO LOVE AGAIN! I'M GOING TO DIE ALONE! *sobbing uncontrollably*

Dwight:We should put him out of his misery.

Dwight:I don't like being around sad people. It makes me uncomfortable. It's like being around horny people — I just don't know what to do with my hands.

Erin:The thing about Pete is, he's got this... I don't know, this thing. Like, down there. It's like a—it's like a Polish kielbasa, you know? Like, really substantial. Like, you could use it as a weapon.

Pam:I mean, I've lived in a house. I've looked at houses. I once went to an open house just to get the free cookies.

Pam:I'm really nervous about this interview. I mean, what if they ask me about my work experience? I've been a receptionist for like... *pauses, gestures vaguely* ...this long. That's literally it. That's my resume. Before that I was in high school, and before that I was in middle school, and before that I didn't exist.

Angela:Finally, a moment of peace and quiet.

Dwight:FACT: You are never truly alone in the office.

Angela:Dwight! You scared me half to death!

Dwight:A true Schrute is always prepared to appear suddenly for maximum tactical advantage.

Dwight:My aunt is very ill. The doctors say she has only days left. Her skin has taken on the color and texture of a rotten eggplant. Her fingers have curled into claws. She can no longer speak, only emit a low, guttural sound like a wounded animal. Yesterday, her left eye simply fell out of its socket and rolled across the floor like a marble.

Dwight:We need Angela's help because she's the only one who knows about poisons. The nurse was poisoned.

Dwight:I mean poison. Actual poison.

Andy:Where are you going?

Angela:I'm heading out.

Clark:Yeah, and where were YOU when your boat needed you?

Andy:Jim, did you see my message about the conference room? I sent it THREE hours ago.

Jim:Andy, I was in a meeting. I'll check it now.

Andy:It's too late. The moment has passed. You don't even care about my sweater.

Jim:Your sweater? What does your sweater have to do with work messages?

Andy:EVERYTHING, Jim. It's not about the sweater. It's about the fact that you didn't acknowledge it. That's how it starts. First you ignore the sweater, then you ignore me, and before you know it, we're not even friends anymore.

Jim:Okay, your sweater looks... nice.

Andy:Don't patronize me. That sweater died the moment you didn't respond to my message.

Andy:Guys, I need your help. I'm trying to come up with a nickname that combines Clark with 'A Clockwork Orange.'

Dwight:A Clockwork Clark.

Andy:No, no, no. It needs to be more clever.

Jim:Clockwork Clark?

Andy:That's the same thing!

Kevin:Clark Orange?

Meeting Angela for the first time, immediately fixating on the 'kitchen witch' comparison

Angela:Would you like a nice warm bath?

Aunt Shirley:That sounds lovely.

Angela:One wrong move and I'll drown you.

Andy:Okay, so I've been thinking about my relationship, and I think we need to have a serious talk. So here's what we're gonna do - we're gonna treat this like a football huddle.

Andy:Alright team, let's do a roster call. We got me, quarterback. We got my girlfriend, wide receiver. We got my insecurities, defensive line. And we got my fear of commitment, safety.

Andy:Alright, on three. Break!

Andy:Does anyone know a Pete?

Pete:I'm Pete.

Andy:No, like a Pete I know.

Pete:That's... that's me. I'm Pete. That's my name.

Pam:Is that a Bluetooth?

Jim:Yeah, I know. I've become my father.

Andy:Pete, I need to talk to you about Erin. What are your intentions here?

Pete:My intentions? They're good, Andy. I really like her.

Andy:Yeah, well, that's interesting because Erin told me that you said you were a professional yodeler who once performed for the Pope.

Pete:What? I never said that.

Andy:And that you have a twin brother who's a astronaut, and that you once won a hot dog eating contest against a German Shepherd.

Pete:Andy, come on—

Andy:So either you're a liar, or you've been holding out on some really impressive credentials that you should probably be leading with.

Andy:You're fired! You're fired! Yes, you're fired today! Pack up your desk and be on your way!

Andy:You messed up real bad, made some big mistakes, now you gotta go, for goodness sakes!

Andy:So take a hike, hit the road, don't look back at me, you're fired, fired, fired—now everybody sing!

Andy:This is like watching someone take a dump on my chest while I'm sleeping.

Michael Scott:I'm not just the boss, I'm also your friend.

Michael Scott:You know, like in that movie where they kill the boss? Except I'm hoping that doesn't happen here.

Completely tone-deaf comment about historical context

Dated reference and forced enthusiasm falling flat

Pam:Oh my god, this is exactly like when Michael used to do stuff like that.

Dwight:Aunt Shirley, we need to hose down the deck properly!

Aunt Shirley:You're doing it all wrong, Dwight!

Angela:Both of you, stop it right now. I don't know what's going on out here, but this is exactly the kind of nonsense that makes me question every decision I've made.

Toby:I've been reviewing the Strangler case files again. There are details that don't add up.

Nellie:You know what, Toby? Why don't you go visit him in prison? I'm sure he'd love to see you.

Mark:Yo, that's totally fire, no cap. We're gonna slay this quarter, bestie.

Roger:*continues reading email*

Andy:You know what? I've been thinking about this all wrong. Shakespeare's characters didn't just appear out of nowhere. They had lives before the play started. Like, Hamlet? He probably had a really supportive manager who believed in him. And Lady Macbeth? She was probably passed over for a promotion, which is why she's so angry.

Kevin:Dude, you got a snot bubble.

Andy:What? Where?

Kevin:Right there, hanging out of your nose.

Andy:Oh... you know, that's actually kind of beautiful when you think about it. We're all just bubbles, really. Floating through space, waiting to pop.

Mark:So Pam, I see here you have experience in... flibbering the zorp machine?

Pam:What? No, that's not—

Mark:And you're proficient in... competitive nose whistling?

Pam:Mark, you're reading it upside down.

Mark:Oh. Well, that explains the interpretive dance background.

Mark:Do you have any kids?

Pam:No, not yet.

Mark:Do you do any art?

Pam:Yeah, I paint.

Mark:Well, your background is like a terrible Bob Dylan song.

Andy:Pete, we need to have a mature conversation. I'm talking about doing the horizontal mambo, if you know what I mean. That's sexual intercourse.

Pete:Andy, I think I understand what you—

Andy:Or as some call it, getting your wick dipped. Your wick being your penis, and dipped referring to insertion into a vagina.

Pete:Yes, I got—

Andy:Some folks say parking the beef bus in tuna town. The beef bus is the penis, and tuna town is the female genitalia, due to the smell.

Pete:Okay, Andy, I really don't need—

Andy:Or doing the horizontal folk dance, which is self-explanatory. Well, actually it's not. It's when you take your genitals and you rub them against another person's genitals in a rhythmic fashion while you're lying down.

Pam:Is this just a receptionist job?

Mark:No, no, it's a different title. It's... it's a title change.

Pam:But it's the same job.

Mark:Yes, but with a better title.

Pam:I realized that if I stayed here, nothing would change. I'd still be answering phones, still be underappreciated, still be the same person I was five years ago. And I didn't want that anymore. I wanted more for myself.

Toby:Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, he walks into mine. Here's looking at you, kid. We're gonna be best friends.

Gabe:Alice, I've been thinking about us. I know things ended badly, but I think we should give it another shot.

Alice:Gabe, no. Have you looked in a mirror lately? Your body looks like a bunch of produce at the farmer's market that nobody wanted. Your torso is like a pale eggplant, your limbs are like celery that's been left out too long, and your face... your face looks like a grapefruit that's been sitting in the sun.

Nellie:Toby, you're back! We heard about your encounter with the Strangler. That's absolutely heroic!

Toby:Well, I wouldn't say heroic. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Nellie:Nonsense! You faced down a serial killer and lived to tell the tale. In my mind, you're practically a war hero. A decorated veteran of the Strangler Wars.

Toby:I really don't think that's—

Nellie:We should erect a statue. Toby Flenderson, vanquisher of evil. Perhaps with one foot on the Strangler's chest, looking nobly into the distance.

Dwight:We are just friends.

Angela:Yes, just friends.

Dwight:My cousin Mose has a similar arrangement with the thresher. They're very close.

Jim:Hey, look on the bright side. At least you don't have to waste good champagne celebrating with these people.

Pam:That's not really making me feel better.

Jim:I'm saying, we're going to drink the cheap stuff. The kind the Nazis used to sterilize their equipment.

Dwight:Angela, I have calculated that I have approximately 47 years left to live. I intend to spend every single one of them with you.

Angela:That's... oddly specific.

Dwight:I factored in my family's medical history, my current fitness regimen, and a 15% risk adjustment for beet farming accidents.

Andy:Why was today so weird?

Gabe:I've been dealing with some stress lately, so I've been going to the woods behind my house and screaming into a pillow for about twenty minutes.

Andy:That's... that's actually not a bad idea.

Gabe:I know. I've gotten pretty good at it. Sometimes I bring two pillows.

Andy:Did Erin ever say she loved you?

Gabe:Once. I thought her reaction was adorable.

Andy:What reaction?

Gabe:Horror.

Pete:I like all kinds of music.

Gabe:All kinds? So you'd listen to a recording of a human being murdered if it had a good beat?

Gabe:Alice, I've been working on myself. I got a new haircut, I'm using a moisturizer with SPF, and I've been doing some light cardio.

Gabe:I think you'll find that I'm now very attractive. I look like a young sea lion.

Pam:So this guy comes in for the interview, right? And Michael's just sitting there crying. Like, full tears streaming down his face.

Jim:Crying? Why?

Pam:There's this obscure movie poster on the wall behind his desk. And every time the candidate looks at it, Michael just loses it. Starts sobbing.

Jim:Wait, the same poster?

Pam:Yeah, like twenty times during the interview. The guy thought Michael was having a breakdown.