Waitress: Have you decided?
Mr. Grotti: I'll have the linguine, red sauce on the side. If the sauce does not come on the side, I will send it back. I want garlic bread, toasted, not burnt. If it comes burnt, I will send it back.
Waitress: Okay, sir. And for you, sir?
Michael Scott: I will have the gabba-gool.
Waitress: The what?
Michael Scott: The gabba-gool.
Waitress: I don't- I don't really know what that is.
Andy: You know, gabba-gool.
Michael Scott: I don't have to have that.
Dwight K. Schrute: What he's trying to say is gabba-gool.
Waitress: I don't really think that we have that.
Michael Scott: That's okay.
Dwight K. Schrute: Bring him the gabba-gool!
Michael Scott: I will have the spaghetti. With a side salad.
Waitress: Okay.
Michael Scott: If the salad is on top, I will send it back.

Kevin: Jim's gone on his honeymoon. So I started borrowing his office to fart in. Then one day, I came in, and I just stayed, 'cause this place is awesome. It feels like home now. Even better than my home. My home sucks.

Michael Scott: If there is one thing I hate more than the mafia, it is a liar. I wish the mafia would go out and kill all the liars. And bury them in my yard. And I wouldn't tell the cops a thing. Not that I would be lying, per se. But I would just get really quiet all of a sudden.