Mateo: [retches]
Amy: I have a terrible headache, Mateo. Can you please barf quieter?
Mateo: Ugh, could you be a bitch quieter?

Mateo: Aisle seven. 30 days. Home and Garden. Dairy factory-farmed. We don't sell wigs anymore. That's not your color.

Glenn: Hey, Myrtle. Myrtle! Could somebody poke Myrtle and see if she's still alive?
Dina: Does it really matter?
Glenn: I guess not.

Amy: [on the phone] Hi, it's me. Sorry I haven't called all day. It's been a frickin' zoo here. Um, I took the test, and don't worry. I'm not happy. I mean... pregnant. I'm not pregnant. Or... maybe I'm not happy. I... I don't know. Um... Adam, we should talk.

Dina: Look who works register after all.
Garrett: Dina, I can't. Whatever issue you have with me can wait till tomorrow, so... [Dina kisses Garrett] [they kiss again] Kind of wish I hadn't spent the whole day puking.
Dina: Yeah, me too. Find every breath mint left in the store, and meet me in the photo lab. Ten minutes, or I start without you.
Garrett: A lot of firsts today.