Eleanor: Hey, how's it going?
Chidi: This is overwhelming. It's every thought and decision and action from this guy's entire life. Like, this whole box is just one trip to Wendy's.
Eleanor: Well, keep reading. According to Michael, I usually asked for your help by, like, day two, so you need to be ready. You know what? At first, I was kinda nervous. But so far, I think I'm doing okay. It's like I became such a good person, I almost forgot I'm a world-class liar, baby.
Chidi: Very fun thing to hear from your girlfriend. You're doing great, and I have to admit, you being the architect is kinda hot. It's kinda like I'm secretly dating my boss. Not that I ever would have done that.
Eleanor: Yeah, no, me neither. So, same. Same.
All right, I gotta get ready for the next person.
Chidi: Well then, I will say good-bye to you platonically the same way a resident would say good-bye to an Architect.
[As Chidi shakes Eleanor's hand, she leans in and kisses him]
Chidi: Eleanor, what if John had seen us? I'm scared, and yet somehow turned on?
Eleanor: Scared is the best way to be horny.

John: Tahani Al-Jamil.
Tahani: Yes? Do I know you?
John: Uh, no, no, but I know you. I used to write about you all the time on my blog, The Gossip Toilet. We were the ones that invented the Olsen twins countdown clock for when they became legal. That was our blog. That was us. [chuckles]
Tahani: Oh, my. You were quite mean to me.
John: Oh, no. I wouldn't call it mean, okay? My targets were rich and high status and I was just doing the important work of telling truth to power. So, wait, what about you, huh? You died in Canada? [shouts] That is so weird and embarrassing. That's like the nip slip of dying... [laughs] Okay, listen. We're gonna catch up later. I can't wait to hear all about your new nose.
Tahani: Oh, no. I didn't get a nose job.
John: Oh, I know, I just figured we're in heaven so we might as well fix all of our flaws, right? Like, look at me. Nothing is staying on this face. [laughs] Gosh. Huh. What are the odds that you and I would end up spending eternity together?

Tahani: Eleanor, Michael? It is I, Tahani.
Eleanor: Yeah, we know, babe. What's wrong?
Tahani: I know John. Rather, he knows me. He's a gossip columnist who tortured me on Earth. He made it seem like I was shallow, plagued with jealousy, and prone to fits of melodrama.
Eleanor: What are you saying?
Tahani: Don't you see? The Bad Place didn't pick the worst people. They picked the people who would be the worst for us.
Michael: Of course. How did I not anticipate this? Shawn didn't just choose a bunch of serial killers. He chose your tormentors or arch rivals.
Eleanor: Or exes.
[Eleanor walks into the waiting room and finds Simone sleeping on the couch]
Eleanor: Those motherforkers.

Jason: And how are we gonna make Simone better when she's asleep the whole time? Hello? [claps hands] We can't work with this.

Shawn: [on video chat] Your Honor, you never stipulated that we couldn't choose people who had some sort of connection to them. And Simone just happened to die on Earth, which was really, really cool... [chuckles] You wanna know how it happened, Chidi? It's hilarious.
Chidi: No!
Judge: [on video chat] Okay, here's my ruling. It's not against the rules for the four new humans to have connections to the original four. Simone and John can stay.
Shawn: Booyah.
Judge: But it was kind of a dirty trick, so Michael can erase Simone's memory to the point before she met any of you.
Shawn: Fine. Have fun with your ex, Chidi. What's that thing you humans say when you're playing chess and you trap your opponent into an inescapable position? Oh, right. Eat butt, you ding dongs.

Eleanor: Are you okay?
Chidi: I... no. Very obviously, no.
Michael: Look, you could spend 100 years in this neighborhood before you even run into Simone. It'll be easy to avoid her.
Chidi: No, no, but we don't want me to avoid her. The whole plan is that I'm supposed to help them learn ethics so they can improve.
Eleanor: Okay, okay. We can deal with that later. Let's just take this step by step. Step one, you leave so I can snap your amnesiac ex-girlfriend out of her post-death coma and welcome her into fake heaven.
Chidi: That's step one?

Tahani: Janet?
Janet: [appears] Hi, there.
Tahani: Give me your opinion. Is this a savage insult? "Nice shirt. Who designed it? Marc Fake-obs?"
Janet: For people in your social class, that is 84% savage. Although there is a 29% chance he responds, "Oh, honey," in a tone so devastating you will think of it every day for the rest of time.
Tahani: I like those odds. I'll go lay it on him now. No. That's exactly what the Bad Place wants me to do. They sent John here to drag me back into my old patterns. Insecurity, obsession with social status. I shan't let it happen.

Eleanor: So, as a neuroscientist, are you surprised there's an afterlife?
Simone: I am, frankly. I mean, there's a decent chance this entire thing is just a complex electro-chemical reaction caused by my synapses randomly firing in the millisecond after my death. But this fro-yo is amazing, so I'm just gonna roll with it.
Eleanor: What flavor did you get?
Simone: I got a twist. Half strawberry, half male-coworker-gets-called-out-for-stealing-your-ideas.
Eleanor: Ooh, those go great together.

Chidi: It won't be okay, which is why you need to erase my memory and reboot me.
Eleanor: What are you talking about? No forking way. We're not rebooting you.
Chidi: Shawn was right. Bringing Simone to this neighborhood, it's checkmate. It completely neutralizes me. I'll be too freaked out to help the new residents. The only way to outflank Shawn is to make it so I don't remember Simone.
Eleanor: So, you have to run into your ex occasionally. That's a part of life, man. I used to run into my exes all the time at the mall, at the dentist office, when I drunk texted them and told them to come over.

Chidi: Michael, if there was another choice, we'd choose it. Believe me.
Eleanor: You like learning about humans, right? This is a classic human situation. Your friends are going through something awful, and there is nothing you can do about it. Anyway, let's just rip the Band-Aid off. Snappy, snappy, wipey, wipey.