MMarcus
Curing cancer, Mr. Wyndam-Price?
Wouldn't be cost-effective. I'm sure we make a lot from cancer.
MMarcus
[chuckles] Yes. The patent holder is a client.
“Time Bomb” · Season 5
In this episode: Illyria (5), Puppet Angel (4), Wesley Wyndam-Pryce (4), Spike (4), Charles Gunn (2), Lorne (2)
Hey.
Gunn. First day back?
Yeah.
[Wesley grabs another book from a cabinet, rushes back to his desk before pausing to address Gunn.]
I stabbed you. I should apologize for that. But I'm honestly not sure how. I think it'll just be awkward.
Good call.
OK.
I ain't lookin' for a sorry. Don't know if I'd accept it. Besides, I just got my heart cut out of my chest every day for 2 weeks straight. Compared to what? A little jab in the gut? Kinda over it.
She still thinks she's the God-King of the Universe.
So she's like a TV star?
No, nothing that bad. Bit more violent, though.
This shell...you had affection for it. For Fred.
Tons. Loved the bird.
Yet you strike at her form without sentiment.
You ain't her. I can see it. Lord knows I can smell it. And I got no problem hittin' it.
When the world met me, it shuddered, groaned. It knelt at my feet.
"Dear Penthouse, I don't normally write letters like this, but--"
[punches him in the face] Illyria was all they needed to know.
Then came the Internet.
[following Illyria]
I repeat, bluebird got wise. Secret Demon's cover is blown. Over. Hel-hello?! Is this on? Hey, Leery, now, when did you catch on to me? In the elevator? That was a tough one.
If this is our chance to get into a better grace with the head office, I have to say it's not my priority.
MMarcus
Oh, no, don't think about us, Angel. Think about profits. It's profits that let you keep this plucky little boat-load of good above water. It's a business, boys, not a Batcave.
Well, I'll tell you what--still like him better than Eve.
What if she blows?
Conservative estimate, she takes out the better part of Los Angeles.
And unconservative?
Rand McNally will have to alter their maps.
Do you know what you were when I was young? You were the muck at our feet! We called you the ooze that eats itself. You were pretty at night, you sparkled and you stank! You still stink of it!
Will you just shut up for once!
What!?
My God, the speechifying! Has it ever occurred to you that right now might not be the best time for when-we-were-muck stories!
If you wanna win a war, you must serve no master but your ambition.
[to Illyria] It's not murder if you say yes.
All right, grandma. Give you that. Good one.
This shell... you had affection for it, for Fred.
Tons. Loved the bird.
Yet you strike at her form without sentiment.
You ain't her. I can see it. Lord knows I can smell i, and I got no problem hitting it.
You're adapting.
We do that.
Adaptation is compromise.
It's called learning. But then I guess you know everything there is to know.
When the world met me, it shuddered, groaned. It knelt at my feet.
"Dear Penthouse, I don't normally write letters like this, but—"
[punches him in the face] Illyria was all they needed to know.
Then came the Internet.
You have nothing. Your kind has pulled this domain apart. Each of you has snatched a tiny piece of it. Even those with the mightiest hordes are paupers.
The one who dies with the most toys wins, eh?
To never die, and to conquer all. That is winning.
Now, that's cheating.
[speaking in comm] Spike, talk to you for a minute?
You may go.
Yeah, great. Thanks so much.
These quotes come from Wikiquote's Angel pages and are available under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.