Det är vanlig längd.
Jepp, fyrtio minuter Buffy är allt vi har kvar.
Det är ju så att man kan gråta.
På tal om att gråta:
Spike: Last night was... God, I'm such a jerk. I can't do this.
Buffy: Spike...
Spike: It was the best night of my life. If you poke fun at me, you bloody well better use that, 'cause I couldn't bear it. It may not mean that much to you, but?
Buffy: I just told you it did.
Spike: Yeah...I hear you say it, but... I've lived for soddin' ever, Buffy. I've done everything. Done things with you I can't spell, but... I've never... been close... to anyone. Least of all, you. 'Til last night. All I did was... hold you, watch you sleep. And it was the best night of my life. So, yeah... I'm... terrified.
Och Andrew. Vem kan undvika att gilla Andrew?
Andrew: Ooh. This one has oxygen tanks.
Anya: They'd only be useful if something big was attacking, and then we could shove one down their throat and blow 'em up like Roy Scheider did with that shark in Jaws... What?
Andrew: You are the perfect woman.
Andrew: You...you love humans.
Anya: I do not.
Andrew: Yes, you do. You loooove them
Anya: Stop it! I don't love them! And I'll kill you if you tell anybody.
Andrew: I won't tell anybody. Won't get a chance to, anyway.
Anya: I don't know. You might survive.
Andrew: No, you might survive. You know how to handle a weapon, and you've been in this world for, like, a thousand years. I'm not so... I don't think I'll be OK. I'm cool with it. I think I'd like to...finish out as one of those... lame humans tryin' to do what's right.
Anya: Yeah.
Andrew: So...wheelchair fight?
-Skratta eller gråta?
Oh, morgondagens avsnitt kommer att bli så bra!