Dwight K. Schrute: The way that boy looks at the Galactica is precisely the way I look at the Galactica. And he eats the same kind of paper I do. Hmm.

Jim: You threw the summoning bag at me, sir?
Dwight K. Schrute: I need you to perform a test.
Jim: Perform a test.
Dwight K. Schrute: On an innocent baby.
Jim: Ooh, I like where this is going. Unfortunately, I have a lot of work today so I'm gonna have to hand this off to my number two. But, don't worry, he's the best in the biz.
Dwight K. Schrute: Damn straight.
Jim: Unless you think he can't handle it.
Dwight K. Schrute: Hey, he can handle it.

Dwight K. Schrute: Philip, you wanna play a little game? It's called "Schrute or Consequences." You're gonna choose one of these two things. A check for a million dollars, or this dirty old beet. Yuck, pew! Which will it be? Money or the beet?
Philip: Beet.
Dwight K. Schrute: Yeah. Any ordinary child would have taken the money, but you're no ordinary child are you? No. I can tell by your gorgeous, widely-set eyes.

Angela: Hey. You wanted to see me?
Dwight K. Schrute: Door. Chair. It's about Philip.
Angela: I am sorry he's here today but I had-
Dwight K. Schrute: I believe that boy may be a Schrute. And if he is, that child needs to be accorded what is his. An enormous farm, an inheritance, and the right to be raised under rigorous Schrute traditions. You will, of course, be compensated with a marriage proposal.
Angela: How thoughtful.
Dwight K. Schrute: Then the two of you would move to my 1,600-acre estate, which, let's face it, is a big step up from living in a gay man's closet.
Angela: If he is your son, that's a great plan. But he's not. He's not your son.
Dwight K. Schrute: Very well.
Angela: Can I go back to my desk now?
Dwight K. Schrute: Yes.

Jim: What do we got?
Dwight K. Schrute: I was thinking of proposing to Esther today.
Jim: Wow! Congratulations, that's a really big step.
Dwight K. Schrute: She's got a ton of great qualities. She's young, she's beautiful, genes so pure you could lick them. Her family admires me. My family tolerates hers. A lot of them are the same people because we're third cousins, which is great for bloodlines and isn't technically incest.
Jim: Right in the sweet spot. I think you're gonna be really happy.
Dwight K. Schrute: Plus her dowry contains a walk-in freezer full of frozen, premium cattle sperm.
Jim: [whistles] That's a lot of pros.
Dwight K. Schrute: And did I mention that she weaves? Colorful, durable blankets and rugs! It all adds up.
Jim: So what is the problem?
Dwight K. Schrute: Angela.

Dwight K. Schrute: In the past year, I have consolidated the entire Scranton paper market. We regained the white pages, the school district, Lackawanna county. We supply them all. I'm getting married tomorrow afternoon, and in the morning, there's a mini-reunion. A kind of a "Where are they now?" panel at a local theatre. It'll be nice to see everyone again. [laughs] I haven't seen Kevin since we let him go.

Dwight K. Schrute: What was that for?
Angela: To remind you that our wedding's gonna be wonderful.
Dwight K. Schrute: Ah. I know. It just feels so empty with so many of the old gang gone.
Angela: D, it's gonna be perfect. The only people that need to be there are you and me.
Dwight K. Schrute: Oh, and the old man to feed us the cheese that he's been fermenting since the day of my birth. You keep forgetting about him.
Angela: I don't... I don't know why.

Dwight K. Schrute: Wait, why are we stopping? Jim, this isn't on the itinerary.
Jim: Get out.
Dwight K. Schrute: Jim, wha- Come on! What- What are you gonna whack me, Jim?
Jim: No, Dwight. You'll be doing the whacking.
Dwight K. Schrute: A bazooka. You remembered.
Jim: Of course I did.
Dwight K. Schrute: [tearful laugh] Get out of my way. [all laugh and applaud after Dwight fires the bazooka] Woo! Okay!
Jim: Yeah! [to camera] Guten Prank number two.

Dwight K. Schrute: [sighs] Man, how long have we been sitting here?
Stripper: Hi, boys!
Clark: Here we go!
Dwight K. Schrute: Oh, Thank God. We are famished!
Stripper: Hey, did somebody order the chef special?
Darryl: Right there.
Dwight K. Schrute: No, we haven't ordered anything. No one's even taken our drinks. Uh, what is the chef special?
Stripper: I bet you boys have a big appetite.
Dwight K. Schrute: Oh, we do. So we'll have an onion loaf for the table, please. And tell us about your heartiest soups.
Stripper: Mm, I know what you want. I know exactly what you want.
Dwight K. Schrute: Yes, an onion loaf for the table but that's not all. Now the chef special sounded good. What is it exactly?
Stripper: Oh, shh. [places finger over Dwight's lips]
Dwight K. Schrute: Okay, what are you doing? Are you giving me a taste of the chef's special? Tastes like cigarettes. That won't work. That's no good.

Dwight K. Schrute: Now, for the last time, I'd like a side salad with balsamic.
Clark: Dwight, for the last time, she's not a waitress.
Dwight K. Schrute: You're telling me!
Oscar: If you want her to leave, just tip her.
Dwight K. Schrute: What for? We haven't even gotten bread yet. Does anyone wanna split a twice baked potato? [to the dancing stripper] Do you have those? Those aren't deep fried, right?