Abed Nadir: The night beckons, like a finger curling and uncurling as if to say "Hey, come here".
Troy Barnes: Do you know how many sitcoms have done the "secretly replacing a broken priceless item" bit? Because Abed does! Abed knows everything, so don't think that you can think your way out of this with your... thinkiness!
Britta Perry: I'm volunteering at the animal hospital.
Troy Barnes: [excited] Animal hospital?
Abed Nadir: The animals are the patients.
Troy Barnes: Oh. That makes sense.
Juergen: We came to play. Get away from our table.
Shirley Bennett: We're usin' it, strudel-brain.
Jeff Winger: Nice.
Juergen: Then play us for it.
Shirley Bennett: Fine. Monday morning. Only let's make it interesting: The losers never get to use this table again.
Juergen: Oh, you are so on that things have now become very much like Donkey Kong.
Annie Edison: So what are you guys doing this weekend?
Pierce Hawthorne: The question is, who am I doing this weekend?
Jeff Winger: He's asking because he forgot. It's nobody.
Shirley Bennett: Jeff, you don't have to worry about what foreigners think of you. That's your birthright as an American.
Jeff Winger: What are you guys doing here on a Saturday night? Shouldn't you be making weird art movies or well-engineered cars?
Troy Barnes: You moving in here was supposed to tone us down!
Young Shirley: I took this boy all the way to Tinkletown!
Jeff Winger: Gentlemen, my name is Clarence Thaddeus Foos. My Grandfather, Fletcher Morton Foos, invented this game for one purpose: to have the loudest, dumbest thing happen. Now it has. The game of Foosball is completed. You're free to return to your undoubtedly hearing-impared families.