Tabula Rasa
B=Buffy, G=Giles, X=Xander, W=Willow, S=Spike, A=Anya, T=Tara, D=DawnLS=Loanshark
S: Can we talk?
B: Vocal cord-wise, yes. With each other, no.
S: We kissed, you and me. All "Gone With the Wind," with the rising music and the rising... music, and what was that, Buffy?
B: A spell?
S: Oh, don't get all prim and proper on me. I know what kind of girl you really are. Don't I?
LS: There are a lot of things I would like, Mr. Spike. A house in Bel Air with a generously-sized swimming pool. And, of course, the 40 Siamese that you owe me.
S: Take it easy, you'll get your kittens.
LS: She's funny. I like funny in a girl.
LS: Time, time! Time is what turns kittens into cats.
LS: Look, I don't want to see anyone get hurt. Boys...
B: Then you better close your eyes.
B: If I were to stop saving his life, it would simple things up SO much.
A: Do you think she walked around on clouds, wearing, like, Birkenstocks, and played a harp? 'Cause those are just not flattering. You know, the clunky sandals, not a harp. I mean, who doesn't look good with a harp?
A: What? I'm just saying what everyone's thinking, right baby?
X: You are attractive and have many good qualities.
X: I just feel weird feeling bad that my friend's not dead. It's too mind-boggling. So I've decided to simplify the whole thing. Me like Buffy. Buffy's alive, so, me glad.
X: We need to spend more time with her. Just hang out. Maybe have weekly dinners over here, or, uh, a book club. Short books. Videos!
X: I'm gonna go get that phone. You probably don't hear it -- high-pitched ring, ears like a dog.
A: I'm gonna help him with that.
B: Hate suffering. Had about as much of it as I can take.
D: You don't want to miss the lowdown on our latest featured creature.
D: So what do we got?
G: Sorry?
D: What kind of oogly-booglies? Lizardy types, or zombies, or vampires, or what?
G: There are no oogly-booglies, Dawn.
X: The cold only makes me stronger and more macho-like.
G: Spike?
A: Holy moly!
S: You need to give me asylum.
X: I'll say.
S: You met him, I believe. Toothy bloke with the baby-seal breath?
A: For real this time? 'Cause, honest-to-Pete, a young shopkeeper's heart can only take so much.
X: Okay, who are you freaks?
W: You don't know me?
X: Not a clue.
W: But you were just all like, "Oh, hey."
X: Yeah, 'cause I thought you were a girl and I'd remember, but...
W: [checks breasts] Well, I AM a girl.
G: Well, maybe we all got terribly drunk and this is some sort of blackout.
D: I don't think I drink.
A: I don't see any booze. I don't feel any head bumps. I don't see Allen Funt.
X: Okay, I'm not panicking. I'm not... I'm not. Stop looking at me like I'm panicking!
B: Maybe something magic happened.
G: Magic? [scoffs] Magic's all balderdash and chicanery.
G: I'm afraid we don't know a bloody thing... except I seem to be British, don't I? Oh, and a man. With glasses. Well, that narrows it down considerably.
G: We'll get our memory back and it'll all be right as rain.
S: Oh, listen to Mary Poppins. He's got his crust all stiff and upper with that nancy-boy accent. You Englishmen are always so... Bloody hell. Sodding, blimey, shagging, knickers, bullocks. Oh, god. I'm English.
G: Welcome to the nancy-tribe.
S: You don't suppose you and I... we're not related, are we?
A: There is a ruggedly handsome resemblance.
G: And you do inspire a particular feeling of familiarity and disappointment. [indicates self] Older brother?
S: [snickers] Father. Oh god, how I must hate you.
G: What did I do?
S: There's always something. And what's with the trollop?
A: Hey!
G: Her?
S: I saw you sleeping together.
G: _Resting_ together.
S: Oh, great -- a tarty step-mother who's half old Daddy's age.
A: Tarty?
G: Old?
W: I'm Willow Rosenberg. Huh, Willow. Funny name.
S: Rupert. [laughs]
G: You're not too old to put across my knee, you know, sonny.
G: Anyway, what did I call you?
S: [looks at jacket label] "Made with care for Randy." Randy Giles? Why not just call me "Horny Giles" or "Desperate-for-a-shag Giles"? I knew there was a reason I hated you.
G: This is our magic shop? Well, that's very, um, progressive of me.
D: So, you don't have a name?
B: Of course I do. I just don't happen to know it.
B: I'll name me... Joan.
D: Ugh.
B: What? Did you just "ugh" my name?
D: No. I just... I mean, it's so blah. "Joan"?
B: I like it. I feel like a Joan.
[in unison] B: Boy, you're a pain in the... D: Boy, you're bossy...
D: Do you think we're...?
B: Sisters?
S: You never showed me affection like that. I'd wager.
S: Dad can drive. He's bound to have some classic mid-life crisis transport. Something red, shiny, shaped like a penis.
B: Monsters are real. Did we know this?
Vamp: Send out Spike.
G: They seem to want spikes.
S: Oh! [gets stakes] Let's give 'em these.
X: Now, I'm not sure what I am, so bear with me here. Now I lay me down to sleep... Shema Israel... Ommmm, ommmm...
B: Hey, stay away from Randy! [stakes Vamp]
D: Whoa!
W: What did you just do?
B: I don't know. But it was cool!
B: I think I know why Joan's the boss. I'm like a superhero or something.
A: I have to protect the cash register, and do some spells.
B: Ready, Randy?
B: Ready, Joan.
G: Oh, son? Come here, um, please.
[awkward hug]
S: Right.
G: Good, then.
S: Hey, I'm a superhero, too! Joan, where are you going?
G: Which book shall we start with?
A: This is the book for us.
G: Oh, good. Does it focus on mind control or memory loss?
A: Not exactly. I just, um, my intuition tells me this is the book, and I figure, being a magic shop owner, and a natural at the supernatural, I should trust my intuition.
G: That's true. But as you recall, I, too, am a magic shop owner.
A: True. But my intuition says that you're not so much the magic guy and more of a paperwork type. Okay, here we go. [opens book at random]
G: But you don't even know...
A: "Bare bare himble gemination."
[rabbit pops into existence]
A: [screams]
B: You're a vampire.
S: I, me, a vampire? No.
B: Check the lumpies and the teeth.
S: [feels fangs]
B: I kill your kind.
S: And I bite yours. So how come I don't want to bite you? And why am I fighting other vampires? I must be a noble vampire. A good guy, on a mission of redemption. I help the helpless. I'm a vampire with a soul.
B: A vampire with a soul? Oh my god, how lame is that?
G: Perhaps we should try another book?
A: No. This book made the little fluffers, this book's gonna send them back. I've got it this time. Okay, "Himble abri. Abri voyon."
[another bunny pops into existence]
G: Yes, dear.
S: I'm a hero, really. I mean, to be cast such an ugly lot in life, and then to rise above it. To seek out better, nobler things. It's inspirational, isn't it? And the two of us -- natural enemies thrown together, to stand against the forces of darkness. Utter trust. No thought of me biting you, no thought of you staking me.
B: Depends on how long you keep on yapping.
G: Clearly, that is not a helpful book, darling. Come down and we'll go about fixing this in a sensible fashion.
A: Sensible? You think it's sensible for me to go down into that pit of cotton-top hell, and let them hippety-hop all over my vulnerable flesh?
G: Well fine, then just stay up there and keep making bunnies. It's a capital plan.
A: What capital? I never know what you're talking about. Loo, shag, brolly, what the hell is all that?
G: What? There's no way that you could remember me saying any of those words.
A: Oh, bugger off, you brolly.
B: Note to self: learn to duck.
G: Get a different book! Put that book down, do you hear! Not.. that... book!
W: How you doin', Dawn?
D: I'm okay. It's scary, but weirdly, kinda familiar.
W: I know what you mean.
D: How are you?
W: A little confused. I mean, I'm all sweaty, and trapped, no memory, hiding in a pipe from a vampire... and I think I'm kinda gay.
G: Look what you've done, you lunatic woman!
A: Don't blame me, you snobby, snotty, thinks-he's-so-great kind of jerk... and I feel compelled to take some vengeance on you! [hits him with book]
G: Ow! God, no wonder I'm leaving you.
Vamp: I smell fear. And it smells good.
G: I'm so sorry, dear.
A: No, Rupy, I'm sorry. You were right. That was the wrong book.
A: Don't leave me.
G: Oh, Anya. [they kiss]
X: Hey, over here, big guy. Check out this throbbing jugular.
X: [laughs] Sorry, I just got back the memory of seeing "King Ralph".
G: Well, this place certainly needs a good tidying.
A: Oh, yes. Yes. Yes.
S: From dust.. to dust.
LS: You're an odd duck, Mr. Spike. Fighting your own kind, palling around with a Slayer, and whoa-oh! that suit! Chutzpah must be your middle name.
"Good-Bye to You", Michelle Branch
Of all the things I believed in
I just wanna get it over with
Tears warm behind my eyes
But I do not cry
Counting the days that pass me by
I've been searching deep down in my soul
Words that I'm hearin'
Are starting to get old
Feels like I'm starting all over again
The last three years were just pretend
And I said
Good-bye to you
Good-bye to everything that I knew
You were the one I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold on to
I used to get lost in your eyes
And it seems that I can't live a day without you
Closing my eyes
And you chase my thoughts away
To a place where I am blinded by the light
But it's not right
Good-bye to you
Good-bye to everything that I knew
You were the one that I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold on to
And it hurts to want
Everything and nothing at the same time
I want what's yours and I want what's mine
I want you
But I'm not giving in this time
Good-bye to you
Good-bye to everything that I knew
You were the one that I loved
The one thing that I tried to hold on to
The one thing that I tried to hold on to
Good-bye to you
Good-bye to everything that I knew
You were the one that I loved...