Rachel: Oh, my God, it's Brussels sprouts!
Ross: That's worse than no food.
Chandler: Ha, ha. All you got was Monica's stinky Brussels sprouts.
Monica: Stinky?
Chandler: Please let me stay on this side of the door.

Phoebe: Come on, you guys, let's just do our own Thanksgiving.
Rachel: Yeah, I'll cook.
Ross: Yeah, let's go out.

Joey: I'm stuck.
Monica: Joey, that is not gonna work.
Joey: No, seriously. I'm really wedged in here.
Phoebe: I'll pull you through.
Joey: Okay. [screaming] Stop, stop, I'm worried about damaging my head.
Chandler: It's a little late for that.

Chandler: I'm telling you, it's gonna happen. Next year, it's gonna be you, me and little Hemingway Bing. What? He's my favorite author.
Monica: Name one of his books.
Chandler: [scoffs] ... The Firm?

Ross: Hey, guess what Joey has.
Joey: Three tickets to today's Rangers game!
Ross: Dude, I wanted him to guess.
Chandler: Oh, my God.
Ross: Yeah, they're great seats too. Guess where they are.
Joey: Center ice.
Ross: Did I do something to you?

Chandler: We'll never make it back.
Joey: So we'll leave before it's over.
Chandler: But it could take us a long time to get back home. Plus, Joey could get lost and they could have to page us to go pick him up.
Joey: Dude, two times that happened!

Ross: Let me see this. "Grand Supreme Little Darling, New York Division"?
Rachel: That's me.

Ross: You entered Emma in a beauty pageant?
Phoebe: And it looks like she put makeup on her.

Rachel: I just remembered, we do have something to eat. Monica put something in our oven this morning.
Monica: You touch that, and you will be sorry.
Chandler: Guys, I'd listen to her. The vein is bigger than I've ever seen it.

Monica: Okay, you two go get the dessert, and I'll let you in.
Rachel: Dessert?
Monica: Yeah, I asked you and Phoebe to pick up the pies. You did remember, right?
Phoebe: Pies. Oh, we thought you said "prize." Here.
Monica: "Grand Supreme Little Darling"?
Rachel: Congratulations!