Jason: Yo, yo, homies, check it. There's something messed up with this place. We keep fighting with each other. None of the TVs get the NFL RedZone channel. My soul mate doesn't even know who Blake Bortles is. I know this sounds crazy, but I think we're in the Bad Place.
Michael: Jason figured it out? Jason? This is a real low point. Yeah, this one hurts. Ow.

Janet: No, no, no, no, Michael, please, please, please! Please don't kill me. I have so much to live for.
Michael: I'm sorry, Janet, got to reboot you every time I start over.
Janet: Oh, I know. I'm not actually upset. It's just the automatic fail-safe mechanism that kicks in every time you approach the plunger. Go ahead. Michael, you monster!

Chidi: Michael, what do we do here?
Michael: I don't know. Apparently, the Bad Place knows that one of you actually belongs down there with them, and they want that person to get inside the obelisk, or they're gonna take all of you.
Jason: I can't go. I'm too young to die and too old to eat off the kids' menu. What a stupid age I am.

Chidi: So we're in the Bad Place, and I know why: almond milk. I knew it was bad for the environment, but I loved the way it coated my tongue with a weird film.

Janet: [montage] Michael, Michael, if I'm gone, who will take care of my birds?
Janet: Michael, no, no, no, no, no! I... I'm pregnant. And it's your baby.
Janet: I have tickets to Hamilton next week, and there's a rumor that Daveed Diggs is coming back.
Michael: Janet, we've been through this hundreds of times. I mean, can you just chill out? Is that possible, Janet? Can you just chill out a little?
Janet: Nope, it's gonna be the same every time.
Michael: Yeah, yeah, I know.
Janet: No, no, no! No, Michael!

Vicky: Yeah, but I don't think you can pull it off. You can't even pull off those bow ties.
Michael: That was very mean, but I'm gonna move past that in the name of unit cohesion.
Vicky: You're gonna reboot those four dum-dums one more time, and then I'm taking over. I'm going to execute my version of this neighborhood. You see, I've been working on it while all of your versions fell apart.
Michael: This is insubordination. And if you do not do what I tell you immediately, you are going down.
Vicky: That's a complete report of every mistake you've made, every screw-up, every reboot all laid out in excruciating detail. Now, I'm sure your boss would love to hear all about how "attempt number 2" is really going. [chuckles] So actually, if you don't do what I say, you're going down. [Australian accent] Down under.

Michael: How did it come to this? I was just trying to do of something innovative and different that would improve the way we make humans' lives miserable for eternity.
Jason: Mm, well...
Michael: Shut up. What are my options? Do I have any? I mean, I can't go along with her plan. It'll be a spectacular failure. But I can't ignore her or she'll rat me out to Shawn. I'm trapped.
Jason: You're saying a lot of words right now, and I only know some of them, like "rat" and "Jason". But I know a little wisdom I can give you.
Michael: I know everything that happened in your life, and it was all stupid, so I highly doubt that.
Jason: I was a member of a 60-person dance crew in Jacksonville. We were called "Dance Dance Resolution: We Resolve To Dance". One day, Donkey Doug and I got into a fight because I'd framed his girlfriend for boogie board theft, so he started a new dance crew called Hashtag DougLife and immediately challenged us to a dance-off. He said, "Meet us inside the abandoned orange juice factory at midnight." That night, as the clock struck 12:00, me and my crew came together with a determination we had never shown before and slashed all their tires. It was dope. The end. By Jason Mendoza.
Michael: You know, that inane story actually contains a bit of good advice. Thank you, Jason.
Jason: You got it, homey. I give good advice. Guess that's why I'm in the Good Place.

Eleanor: [gasps] Holy forking shirt. You guys, don't you get it? Michael is torturing us. That's why our lives have been so miserable since the moment we got here. This isn't the Good Place. It's the Bad Place.
Michael: [laughs] Ah, farts.

Michael: [recording] I mean, why even bother at this point? I'm obviously never gonna get it right. "I'm Eleanor. I'm so smart. I'm actually in the Bad Place." Blah, blah, blah, blah. Shawn still thinks I'm on version two. I just keep lying to him, and it's really bad, but I... I mean, I have to keep trying. I'm in too deep. And I'm really fat right now. I'm stress-eating, and I'm gaining weight in my thighs. I mean, look at that. [gibbering] Oh.
Eleanor: So sorry. Who are you? And where am I?
Michael: It doesn't matter. This one doesn't even count.

Chidi: Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God.
Eleanor: This is the Bad Place. I forking knew it! And clam chowder is disgusting. It's just hot ocean milk with dead animal croutons.
Chidi: Okay, but what do we do, panic, freak? I usually panic, but I am happy to freak.
Eleanor: No. We have to stay cool. As my mom always used to say, if a cop handcuffs you to a bike rack, there's always something you can gnaw through.
Chidi: Your mom always said that?