Jonah: How much do you make?
Marcus: Same thing we all make: $134,000 a year. [all clamoring]
Garrett: How do you make that much a year?
Marcus: 52 weeks times 30 hours a week times minimum wage 86 bucks an hour.
Dina: No, no, no, no. Minimum wage is $8.60 an hour.
Glenn: [gasp] I must have missed a decimal point.
Jonah: So no part of you thought to question why you were making $86 an hour to work retail?
Marcus: I thought that's what we all made. [all sigh] How do you guys live on under $134,000 a year?

Marcus: I don't know how I'm gonna pay back Corporate. I'm broke.
Jonah: How? You live with your mother. Your car doesn't have any doors. And you've been making $134,000 every year for the last six years. Where does all the money go?
Marcus: I don't know. I get the guacamole from Chipotle every time.

Mateo: Who would you pick?
Cheyenne: Okay, if I had to pick someone here, it would probably be... [off Mateo's look] Actually, you would be good for it.
Mateo: I know. That's what everyone is saying. But I don't think Amy sees me as a leader. In her eyes, I'd always be the wide-eyed ingenue new to the city, naive but hopeful, someone who can eat whatever he wants and never put on any weight.

Cheyenne: Maybe you just need to step up and start acting like a leader. Fake it 'till you make it.
Mateo: What does that even mean? Like, I should just start telling people what to do?
Cheyenne: It worked for Bo. One day he walked into a drugstore wearing a white coat, and now he's a pharmacist tech.
Mateo: Really?
Cheyenne: We don't have to buy street drugs anymore.

Amy: Um... Uh... You know, if you're still in between jobs, they just promoted me to manager.
Myrtle: Of the Cardinals?
Amy: No, of the store. [Myrtle gasps] And- And they told me that I could hire an assistant, but I don't really need and assistant, so... Why don't I just hire you?
Myrtle: Oh, really? I'll be the best assistant you've ever had.
Amy: No, no, no, you don't you don't have to come in. [whispers] You can just take the money.
Myrtle: I used to work for Mr. Nelson of Pan-American Airlines. I'll be here bright and early every morning with your racing forms and pipe tobacco.
Amy: Great. Yeah, well, welcome aboard.

Myrtle: [video display] Hi! Welcome to Cloud 9.
Myrtle: Oh, why, thank you!
Myrtle: [video display] Do you like cool savings?
Myrtle: Yes, I do.
Myrtle: [video display] Why not check out our frozen treats in Grocery?
Myrtle: Oh, I will. Thank you so much. Frozen treats.

Garrett: But why would Paul Walker's ghost single you out?
Marcus: I'm just saying sometimes the car speeds up even when I'm not pressing on the gas.

Mateo: Now, that is a nice-looking display.
Sandra: Thanks. I sorted them by order of smells I encountered growing up.
Mateo: Well, um, since you're done here, why don't you go, um, straighten out the linen section?
Sandra: Oh, um... did someone say I should? I mean who...
Mateo: Who... [clears throat] What?
Sandra: Nothing.
Mateo: Hmm. [scoffs] [Sandra walks away] [exhales sharply] How is Fig Newton the first thing you ever smelled?

Amy: Anyway, this foot had the number eight written on it, which is concerning because we've only found two other feet, so keep your eyes open.

Mateo: If someone held a gun to your head and asked you, "Who would be the best person to replace Amy as floor supervisor," who would you say?
Cheyenne: Probably the guy with the gun.
Mateo: Okay. No, he doesn't want the job.
Cheyenne: Oh, well, then what's up with the gun?
Mateo: Forget the gun.