Michael Scott: You people are jerks. Imagine if you had left Stevie Wonder on the floor of that bathroom instead of me.
Phyllis: Oh, we wouldn't do that. We love Stevie Wonder.
Michael Scott: I enjoy having breakfast in bed. I like waking up to the smell of bacon. Sue me. And since I don't have a butler, I have to do it myself. So, most nights before I go to bed, I will lay six strips of bacon out on my George Foreman grill. Then I go to sleep. When I wake up, I plug in the grill. I go back to sleep again. Then I wake up to the smell of crackling bacon. It is delicious. It's good for me. It's a perfect way to start the day.
Dwight Schrute: [delusional] You can't fire me. I don't work in this van.
Michael Scott: Help! Oh, God! Oh, help! Help me.
Toby: What happened?
Michael Scott: I fell off the toliet. I'm caught between the toliet and the wall.
Toby: What do you need?
Michael Scott: Not you. Someone else. Get Pam.
Toby: I don't think Pam's gonna wanna come in to the men's room.
Michael Scott: Get Ryan. He needs to lift me up, and he needs to clean me up a little bit. Bring a wet towel.
[Ryan's eyes widen, as he shakes his head]
Toby: Ryan is dead.
Michael Scott: No, he's not. I just saw him.
Toby: Dead. No. Can you just get up yourself? You only grilled your foot.
Michael Scott: Forget it. I'll just get up myself.
Michael Scott: I want you to rub butter on my foot.
Pam Beesly: No.
Michael Scott: Pam, please? I have Country Crock.
Dwight Schrute: [Leaving Pam's desk] ... okay, see you later Pan.
Michael Scott: Hey.
Ryan Howard: I found the pudding cups you wanted at a gas station in Carbondale!
Michael Scott: You did it. Look at you. And with the plate and the napkin. Very nice. Thank you, Ryan.
Ryan Howard: You are very welcome.
Michael Scott: Did you get the yams?
Ryan Howard: No, the gas station in Carbondale did not have fresh yams.
Michael Scott: Oh, okay. I'll just have the pudding.
Ryan Howard: You sure?
Michael Scott: [sighs] Yeah.
Michael Scott: Dwight, what is your middle name?
Dwight Schrute: Danger.
Michael Scott: Something with a "K."
Jim Halpert: It's Kurt. Wow, I am so sad that I know that.
Michael Scott: Can I have everyone's attention, please? Phyllis. Oscar. Ryan, who is supposed to be dead.
Michael Scott: [holds up his injured foot, which is wrapped in plastic] What does this look like to you, Stanley?
Stanley: Mail Boxes Etc.