Pam: There's a box out here marked fruit of the month. I'm assuming that means one of you won a contest.

Pam: Ugh, my old squash injury.
Mitchell: Oh, you played squash?
Pam: No. I grew the heaviest one in the county. I had to carry it inside every night, on account of poachers.

Pam: Y'all need to move that 'fridgerator in your hall. It is straight under little Cal's crib, and the noise is keeping him up, which is weird because he was conceived in a slaughterhouse.

Cameron: Pameron Jessica Tucker, listen to me. You need to stop those dirty jailbird phone calls right this second with Bo, or I am...
Pam: Oh, my God! You've been listening in on my private conversation?
Cameron: You should be ashamed of yourself. Talking like a girl from Cricketsville, you were raised better than that.
Pam: You stay the hell out of my business. And stop looking down your nose at Cricketsville. They got a Target now with a Banksy on the side of it.
Cameron: Yeah, right. I'm sure Banksy drove to Cricketsville and painted on the s... Oh, you mean the ATM.
Pam: Well, what the hell else would I be talking about?

Cameron: Okay, I hope you're hungry.
Pam: Starving. That damn airline ran out of roast beef. Tried to fast talk me into eating something called "hoo-mus."

Pam: You called Bo, you ginormous mountain of stupid?!
Cameron: Yeah, that's right, I did. And I told him you were getting your life together here with your baby and he needed to back off.
Pam: He didn't even know I had his baby.
Cameron: What?
Pam: Now he knows where I am. He's gonna come looking for me when he gets out! You ruined everything, you giant, horse-faced dummy.
Cameron: I'm not sure why every insult needs a size component.

Pam: They figure out what started that fire?
Mitchell: Yeah, they think it was the oven.
Pam: Well, that's dumb. I turned the oven off 'fore we went on our walk.
Mitchell: You did?
Pam: Yeah, 'cause I'm the only responsible person around here. [thudding, Cal crying] Aw, dang it! Cal rolled off the sofa again!

Cameron: Look, I'm really sorry. I had no idea that wasn't Bo on the phone. Who else would you be so... intimate with?
Pam: Anybody who can pay three bucks a minute for nasty talk.
Cameron: Okay, you're a phone-sex operator?
Pam: My real-person modeling gigs haven't been paying the bills. And I needed a job where I could stay at home with the baby.
Cameron: I didn't even know that still existed. Like, I thought it was all apps and the Internet now.
Pam: Not everyone leads your coastal-elite lifestyle, Cam. There's a whole country full of decent, hardworking Americans who still want to torque their doolies on the phone, you gargantuan snob!
Cameron: Just could've said "snob."

Pam: You're low on frozen mangoes. Put it on your list. Oh, and get me a box of lady sticks.
Cameron: What... What... What are you making?
Pam: I'm making one of your fruit smoothies.
Mitchell: Oh, Pam...
Pam: All right, I'm making one of your homosexual smoothies.

Mitchell: Why are you flipping out? I-I am not in competition with you.
Pam: Oh, so now you think I'm crazy?!
Mitchell: N-No.
Pam: Well, maybe I am crazy, but I have a damn good reason. Connect the dots, you dummy. I'm wearing real loose clothes. I need money real bad. My hair is lustrous like a lion's mane.
Mitchell: Uh, you're in love?
Pam: No, the opposite! I'm pregnant!