Willow Rosenberg: Buffy, it's hideous. Oh my god, Buffy. Look at its arms!
Buffy Summers: I know. But it's my duty.
[Longer shot shows their ugly, venomous-green dresses]
Buffy Summers: I'm... Buffy the bridesmaid.
Willow Rosenberg: Duty-schmuty. I'm supposed to be best man. Shouldn't I be all Marlene Dietrich-y in a dashing tuxedo number?
Anya: Okay. For the last time. I, Anya, want to marry you, Xander, because I love you and I'll always love you. And before I knew you, I was like a completely different person. Not even a person, really. And I had seen what love could do to people, and it was hurt and sadness. Alone was better. And then, suddenly there was you, and... you knew me. You saw me, and it was this... thing. You make me feel safe and warm. So, I get it now. I finally get love, Xander. I really do.
Spike: You meet my friend?
Buffy: No. Not yet. But, she seems like a very nice attempt at making me jealous.
Spike: Is it working?
Buffy: A little. It doesn't change anything, but i-if you're wildly curious, yeah, it hurts.
Spike: I'm sorry. Or, good!
Mr. Tony Harris: What do ya say we slip in the back room and I show you my...
Buffy: You finish that sentence and I guarantee you won't have anything to show.
[Anya practices her wedding vows]
Anya: I, Anya, promise to cherish you... Ew, no, not cherish. Uh, I promise to have sex with you whenever... *I* want, and, uh, uh, pledge to be your friend, your wife, and your confidant, and your sex poodle...
Tara Maclay: Uh, sex poodle?
Anya: Yeah, why?
Tara Maclay: Um, I'm not sure you should say 'sex poodle' in your vows.
Anya: [practicing her wedding vows] I, Anya, promise to love you, to cherish you, to honor you, ah, but NOT to obey you, of course, because that's anachronistic and misogynistic and who you do you think you are, like a sea captain o-or something?
Buffy: You look great, Mr. About To Get Married. You're glowing. Oh, my God. Maybe you're pregnant!
Xander: It's dead.
Willow Rosenberg: Is anyone else waiting for it to go poof? Maybe we can cover it with flowers.
Old Xander Harris: I'm you from the future.
Xander: Oh, from the future! For a minute, I thought you were a nut ball, but now that you're from the future...
Buffy: [trying to stall the wedding while Willow searches for Xander] There's just gonna be a little bit of a delay.
Anya: Why? What's wrong?
Buffy: Nothing! Nothing's wrong, i-it's just, um, it's the-the minister. He had, uh, to go and perform an emergency C-section.
Anya: [confused] C-section?
Buffy: [stuttering] Yeah, ya know. He-He's, uh, not-not just a minister, he-he's also a-a doctor. You know, he's half minister, half doctor. He's a-a, uh, minitor. Not, of course, to be confused with a Minotaur, because he's all, you know, manness, doctor minister man. No-no bull parts whatsoever.
Xander: It fit when I picked up the tux. How could it not fit now?
Buffy: It'll fit.
Xander: Aw, man, what if it doesn't? What if I can't wear my cummerbund? And then the whole world can see the place where my pants meet my shirt. Buffy, that can not happen. I must wear das cummerbund!