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Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips
The Slayer's a basket case. I'd say we've hit bottom.
- Yeah. I'm sure you're right. - Buffy.
- What is it, Angel? - It's amazing.
I think I'm havin' a thought.
- What do we do? - I think, um...
But I've named them all the same name.
I'm 17. Looking at linoleum makes me wanna have sex.
Don't touch me.
- Let's overreact! - But...
No vampires transporting boxes?
..you're kissin' me.
He's trying to make it harder for you.
I think so.
It's not over. I suppose you know that.
- Care to let me in on the plan I'm a part of? - No.
Well, we had to hide.
- What do you mean? - Some event must have triggered it.
Yeah? Those of us with feelings are gonna do somethin'.
Well, do you?
The coming months are gonna be hard... I suspect, on all of us.
I saw him at the house. He was different. The things he said...
I know that you loved him.
It's not really the kind of message you tell.
You're not quittin' on me already, are ya?
You have gross emotional problems... and things are not OK between us.
The "We Hate Cordelia Club", of which you are the treasurer?
- What's up? Where's Buffy? - She never checked in.
Happy Birthday Louise, I hope you like the colour
To the modern man, vengeance is a word, an idea.
Come on, Buffy. It's not like I've never been there before.
- So you didn't kill her, then? - Course not.
Did you find anything?
- What about the Judge? Where do we stand? - On a pile of books that say the same thing.
Well, go on. Make a wish.
Uh... Private Harris with the, uh... 33rd.