Regina Phalange, International Woman of Intrigue
Regina Phalange, the alias of Phoebe Buffay.
Phoebe: Uh, Rach, hang on.
Ross: [mouths] No, no, no.
Rachel: Phoebe? Is everything okay?
Phoebe: Um, actually no. No, you have to get off the plane.
Rachel: What? Why?
Phoebe: I have this feeling that something's wrong with it. Something is wrong with the left phalange.
Melissa: Phoebe, were you ever in a sorority?
Phoebe: Of course. Yes. I was a Thigh Mega Tampon.
Melissa: What one?
Phoebe: Yeah, we were really huge. But then they had to shut us down when Regina Phalange died of alcohol poisoning.
Monica: I still don't get why Greg and Jennie would give us a fake number.
Joey: You know, if they knew what they were doing, they didn't give you real names either.
Monica: Okay. Maybe people give out fake numbers, but they don't give out fake names.
Joey: Oh, yeah? Hi. Ken Adams. Nice to meet you.
Phoebe: Regina Phalange.
Phoebe: We'll just do our best, okay. So, let's say that I'm the interviewer and I'm meeting you for the first time.
Phoebe: Hi. Come on in. I'm Regina Phalange.
Chandler: Chandler Bing.
Phoebe: Oh, Bing. What an unusual name.
Chandler: Well, you should meet my Uncle Bada. I'll let myself out.
Andrea Waltham: Yes, Waltham lnteriors.
Phoebe: This is Ross Geller's personal physician, Dr. Phalange.
Andrea Waltham: Who?
Phoebe: Yeah, I discovered that Ross forgot to take his brain medicine. Now, without it, in the brain of Ross women's names are interchangeable. Through no fault of his own.
Andrea Waltham: Oh, my God. Phoebe.
Phoebe: No, not Phoebe. Dr. Phalange. Oh, no. You have it too!
Phoebe: Hello, my name is Regina Phalange. I'm a businesswoman in town on business. Would you like to see my card? Oh, what did I do with my Filofax? I must've left it in Conference Room B.
Joey: Hit me.
Phoebe: Oh, my God. May I just say, that you two gentlemen have the exact same hands? They're identical. Now, I've never seen anything like that in the business world.
Randall: Stop it.
Joey: Miss Phalange, may I ask you a question as an impartial person at this table?
Randall: Please stop it.
Joey: Wouldn't you pay good money to see these identical hands showcased in some type of an entertainment venue?
Randall: If you leave now, I will chop off my hand and give it to you.
Rachel: Oh, honey, I'm sure there's nothing wrong with the plane. Alright, look, I have to go. I love you, and I will call you the minute I get to Paris.
Nervous Male Passenger: Um, what was that?
Rachel: Oh, that was just my crazy friend. She told me I should get off the plane, because she had a feeling that there was something wrong with the left phalange.
Nervous Male Passenger: Okay. Uh, that doesn't sound good.
Rachel: Oh, I wouldn't worry about it. She's always coming up with stuff like this, and you know what? She's almost never right.
Nervous Male Passenger: But she is sometimes?
Rachel: Well... Wait, what are you doing?
Nervous Male Passenger: Well, I can't take this plane now.
Stewardess: Excuse me, sir? Where are you going?
Nervous Male Passenger: I have to get off this plane, okay? Her friend has a feeling something's wrong with the left phalange.
Rachel: Could I get some peanuts?
Female Passenger: What's wrong with the plane?
Stewardess: There's nothing wrong with the plane.
Nervous Male Passenger: Yeah! The left phalange.
Stewardess: There is no phalange!
Nervous Male Passenger: Oh, my God. This plane doesn't even have a phalange.
Female Passenger: I'm not flying on it.
Stewardess: Ma'am, please sit down.
Male Passenger: What's going on?
Nervous Male Passenger: We're all getting off. There is no phalange!
Rachel: This is ridiculous. I - Yeah, okay.
Phoebe: [in a French accent] Uh, excuse me? Uh, I am Regine Phalange. I was passing by when I heard this man speaking the regional dialect of my French town of ... Estée Lauder.
Casting Director: You really think this man is speaking French?
Phoebe: Ecoutez, je vais vous dire la vérité. C'est mon petit frère. Il est un peu retardé. Alors si vous pouviez jouer le jeu avec lui. [Listen, I'm going to tell you the truth. This is my little brother. He is a little retarded. So, if you could, just play along with him.]
Security Guard: Didn't I just throw you out?
Phoebe: No, you threw out Phoebe. I'm Regina Phalange. Phalange.
Security Guard: Come on, lady.