Dwight: What is my perfect crime? I break into Tiffany's at midnight. Do I go for the vault? No, I go for the chandelier. It's priceless. As I'm taking it down, a woman catches me. She tells me to stop. It's her father's business. She's Tiffany. I say no. We make love all night. In the morning the cops come and I escape in one of their uniforms. I tell her to meet me in Mexico but I go to Canada. I don't trust her. Besides, I like the cold. Thirty years later, I get a postcard. I have a son and he's the chief of police. This is where the story gets interesting: I tell Tiffany to meet me in Paris, by the Trocadero. She's been waiting for me all these years; she's never taken another lover. I don't care, I don't show up. I go to Berlin. That's where I stashed the chandelier.

I bought it. It's ours. Let's go inside, I'll show you inside. So if you can believe it I did it without a realtor. Saving on closing costs is good and, uh, we can put all the money to de-shag the carpet. Which I think will help, the color situation... Yeah, I am really sorry about this. I tried to move it but he is really nailed in there. Worried about art theft, I guess, lot of art thieves in this neighborhood. This is the master bedroom but, I'm actually not allowed in here so...

Jim

Pam: I love it.
Jim: You do?
Pam: Yeah, I love it!
Jim: Really?
Pam: I mean, you bought me a house!
Jim: Oh my God...
Pam: You bought me a house!
Jim: Yeah, I did.
Pam: Um, do we have to sleep in your parent's bedroom?
Jim: No, No, we'll just board that up. It'll be that weird spare room that people ask us about.
Pam: And the clown?
Jim: Yeah, I can't... really can't move him.

Michael: You said you were leaving and you made liars out of all of us. So...
Toby: I did leave.
Michael: Yes, you did. And then you came back, which makes you the biggest liar of... history.
Toby: Well, I don't see it that way.
Michael: Do you want to hear a lie?
Toby: What?
Michael: I think you're great. You're my best friend.

Toby: You know but the police could have been out there you know, catching real criminals instead of here searching my stuff.
Michael: Are you kidding me? Are you kidding me, that's who you're worried about? You're... you're worried about the cop's time? You think I framed you, and you're worried about the taxpayer? Dah, God! Welcome back, jerky jerk-face.

Just pretend like we're talking until the cops leave.

Creed

[on cell phone] Yes, I repeat a drug dealer is on the premisis of Dunder Mifflin. His name is Toby Flenderson and he recently returned from a mysterious vacation in Central America. I have risked a great deal to tell you this information. My name is Andy Bernard. Andrew Bernard, that's my name. See you soon.

Dwight

Ryan: Hey, Pam? I just wanted to let you know; I'm totally on your side with the whole microwave situation.
Pam: Thank you.
Ryan: I was just back there, to make some cup-o-soup; the thing is still a huge mess.
Pam: I know, can you believe it?
Ryan: Yeah, it's crazy. But, I guess the thing is at some point, notes or no notes, someone's gonna have to just get there and clean it up.
Pam: I guess that's why we have a temp, huh?
Ryan: Ah ha ha, oh no, trust me. I would just make it worse.
Pam: How would wiping it with a paper towel make it worse?
Ryan: I would find a way.

Michael: Toby can I see those? Ooh. [takes photos, throws them on the floor] What's the matter? What's the matter? You scared?
Dwight: Those are fighting words.
Michael: You mad? You mad at me?
Dwight: I hope he doesn't haul off and just hit you.
Michael: Do you want to do that? You want to hit me, you want to punch me?
Dwight: Hmmm?
Michael: Huh? He might do it...
Kelly: Punch him, Toby!
Michael: I dare you to. Come on.
Dwight: Come on!!

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