Stuart: Hey, is it weird that a primitive tribe with no contact with the outside world, no technology, speaks English?
Denise: Maybe we're speaking their language.
Stuart: Well, if that's the case, how can I say the word "helicopter"? They obviously don't have helicopters.
Denise: We say "unicorn," but we don't have unicorns.
Stuart: I don't want to talk about this anymore.

Denise: It's so beautiful here. Peaceful.
Stuart: Glad you like it, 'cause we ain't going anywhere.
Denise: You couldn't fix the machine?
Stuart: Me? Fix it? No. I come from a long line of people who call a guy.

Kripke: So, for example, I have cwaimed this bowl because I don't want your germs, which means this bowl is mine. My bowl.
Manu: All the bowls are the same. How do we know?
Kripke: Ah, good question. Wook here on the bottom. I have put my mark. Now, I know you're all charmingwy iwiterate but this is a wetter, the wetter "K," as in "keep your hands off Kwipke's bowl." [Alta raises her hand] Yeah?
Alta: Isn't it better if we all share everything?
Kripke: Maybe if you're a pinko communist... [chuckling] ...but I don't have to tell you how that worked out.
Alta: How did that work out?
Kripke: [hesitates] This is my bowl, don't touch my bowl.

Simpa: What are you doing?
Manu: Mine.
Simpa: What's that mean?
Manu: It means it belongs to me.
Simpa: But that's not our way. We- We share bowls. We... We share everything.
Manu: Maybe if you're a commie... or a sociawist.

Kripke: Now, by giving me these melons, you've established what is called cwedit, which you can weverage for future purchases.
Alta: Why not share the melons with everyone?
Kripke: Think it through. If you do that, how does anyone get wich?

Simpa: Tell me about monogamous.
Kripke: [groans] That's a wittle complicated. Um... Ah! Let's say you're fishing on a wake, and after a very wong time, you finally catch a small blue fish. You take it home, you cook it, you eat it. It's dewicious. So you decide you're only gonna eat that same stupid fish for the west of your wife, even if another fish gives you her phone number.
Simpa: What if you want to be with someone, but they're doing monogamous with someone else?
Kripke: Been there. Three choices. You can get over her, twicky without porn. You can convince her to cheat on the other guy, but for that, you weawy need a car with tinted windows. And finawy, you figure out a way to get wid of the other guy.
Simpa: Like send him on a journey?
Kripke: Yeah, or maybe he, uh, falls off a cwiff. Happens.

Stuart: What are you doing?
Denise: Oh, it's okay. I'm a certified minister of the Universal Life Church.
Stuart: Which doesn't exist in this universe and is bullshit in the one it does.

Stuart: Better question, are we finally in a normal universe?
Kripke: Eh, sure looks like it.
[Denise leans forward and takes a bite out of a green plant]
Denise: [chewing] Seems normal to me.

Chana: Would you like to come back to our village?
Simpa: We have food and places to rest.
Chana: Water to bathe in, companions to sleep with.
Kripke: Hang on. Question. [with rhotacism] When you say "sweep with," do you mean sex?
Chana: Of course.
Kripke: Daddy's home.

Bert: Uh, what do you want in return?
Chana: Just the pleasure of knowing we met your needs.
Kripke: Follow-up question. What if some of the needs are a wittle unusual?
Stuart: [whispers] Shush! We'd be honored to accept your hospitality.
Simpa: Our village isn't far. Walk with us.
Kripke: So far, this is my favorite universe.

Denise: So what are we supposed to do?
Stuart: I don't know. Look for a hut in a neighborhood with good schools?
Denise: Oh, God. I forgot about our kids.
Stuart: It's okay. Don't worry about it. They- They- They weren't real. They were projections from a malevolent force keeping us enslaved in a false reality.
Denise: Yeah, but they were ours.
Stuart: Yeah.

Kripke: I suppose it's technically possible for a society to develop Engwish as a wanguage without an Engwand, but it seems unwikewy.
Denise: That's what I said.
Stuart: Guys!
Kripke: Of course, we could be speaking their wanguage and not know it.
Denise: I said that too.
Stuart: Listen to me!
Kripke: [to one of the women in the hot tub] Ooh, not so wough on the tushy.
Stuart: I've been through the whole village. There's one piece of red quartz, and Gavel won't give it up.
Kripke: Ah, I'm not surprised. He's also a very selfish wover.

Stuart: Bert, I'd be very happy to be your best man.
Bert: You don't look happy.
Stuart: What do you want from me? I ran out of Lexapro.

Denise: Oh, my God, I'm trying not to cry. Bert, Chana, you are about to embark on an amazing adventure. You're gonna set sail in a boat made of love. [sighs] And how do we make that boat seaworthy? We build a hull of trust, a mast of compromise, and to it we attach a sail made of dreams.
Stuart: We get it, a boat.

Kripke: I don't know about you guys, but weddings make me horny.

Kripke: I'm just gonna ask it one more time. How were those people speaking Engwish?

Denise: So, we're really stuck here?
Stuart: Well, hang on. Someone's been sending me messages. Maybe they'll tell us how to fix the machine.
Denise: But there's no technology here. How do you send a message?
Stuart: Primitive cultures had lots of ways to communicate. Drums, smoke signals... a third thing.

Bert: Well, we do things differently where I come from.
Chana: Pasadena?
Bert: Yeah. When a man and a woman love each other, they're monogamous.
Chana: What is "monogamous"?
Bert: They only have sex with one another.
Chana: And everyone in Pasadena does this?
Bert: Well, I can't speak for everyone, but a lot of them. Definitely more than in Beverly Hills.

Chana: You speak our words?
Stuart: Yes. We speak your words.
Simpa: Where is your village?
Stuart: Uh... Pasadena?
Simpa: P-- Pasadena.
Chana: Pasadena.
Bert: Just east of Glendale?
Chana: Glendale. Glendale.
Simpa: Glendale.
Kripke: Yeah, just north of the 134. What the hell are we doing here?

Kripke: Sowwy. My dogs are barking.
Manu: Mm. [grabs Kripke's shoe]
Kripke: What are you doing?
Manu: These are good. I will wear them.
Kripke: Like hell you will. They're mine.
Manu: "Mine"? What is "mine"?
Kripke: They belong to me. I went to Foot Wocker and waited an hour for the idiot kid to find my size. Mine.
Manu: Mine.
Kripke: No, you say "yours."
Manu: Yours.
Kripke: Thank you. Mine.
Manu: Mine.
Kripke: Yours.
Manu: Thank you.