Erin: Holly is ruining Michael's life. He thinks she is so special. And she's so not. Her personality is like a 3. Her sense of humor is a 2. Her ears are like a 7 and a 4. Add it all up and what do you get? 16. And he treats her like she's a perfect 40. It's nuts.

Dwight K. Schrute: Male. Caucasian. Forties. Black hair. Facial type: marsupial.
Erin: He answers to Michael. Michael G. Scott. Michael J. Fox. Mr. Fox. The Incredible Mr. Fox.
Attendant: Yeah, he just left.
Holly: Which way did he go?
Dwight K. Schrute: Hey, hey, hey. Let me answer this. Stupid question. He went back to the office, obviously, which is that way.
Holly: Oh, really? You don't think he walked by the bakery just for the smell of it?
Attendant: She's right. He went that way.
Dwight K. Schrute: Alright. Don't get a swelled head. You're no tracker. [Dwight and Erin low-five] Let's ride.

Gabe: "Darn it Bob. I told you not to buy a Sabre brand lifeboat." [laughter]
Kevin: Nice!
Gabe: No, not nice. Terrible. Doesn't even include the fact that they're dogs.
Andy: Do the next one.
Gabe: "Wake up, Fred. The power cord on your Sabre printer shocked you into a coma, and you're dreaming you're a dog on a desert island."
Darryl: Dreaming he's a dog on a island.
Gabe: Uh, excuse me, excuse me. How does the speaker know what the guy in the coma is dreaming?
Phyllis: Well, if you think it's so easy, Gabe, why don't you try it?
Gabe: Umm... "You don't have to sniff my rear end anymore, Bob, I'm the only one here." Ha.
Oscar: That's tasteless, Gabe.
Gabe: Tasteless?
Oscar: Tasteless.
Gabe: More tasteless than this..."is that a palm tree or did Gabe get skinnier? Either way, let's pee on it." [laughter]
Pam: Ladies and gentlemen, I think we have a winner.