Monica: I had to turn down a job catering a funeral for 60 people.
Rachel: Oh, my God. What happened?
Monica: Sixty guests.

Rachel: How did the catering job go?
Monica: It was great. The widow wouldn't pay, so Phoebe yelled at her till she did.
Phoebe: Yeah, I'm a hard-ass.
Monica: And I'm a wuss. We should be partners.
Phoebe: Yeah, hard-ass and wuss. We could fight crime.
Monica: Wait a minute, Phoebe. We should be partners. We should be catering partners. I mean, think about it. You're not working now, and we have such a great time together. I can cook and you can take care of the money.
Phoebe: Oh, it'll be like I have a wife in the '50s.

Chandler: Actually, this is for Kathy's birthday. It's an early copy of her favorite book.
Rachel: Oh, The Velveteen Rabbit. Oh my God, when the boy's love makes the rabbit real.
Chandler: Okay, but don't touch it because your fingers have destructive oils.
Rachel: Then you'd better keep it away from Ross's hair.