Xander: I don’t like crime any more than you do.

Bartender: Hey! Not cool bro!

Grant: Then do something about it.

Xander: Magic it all away! All fo it, huh, Rhelan? Just end it all, right?

Bartender: Call security!

Xander: Crime, evil, degeneracy, meanness of spirit, hatred, emotion, all of it, right? …or just the people?

Xander: Say the word, Rhelan.

Grant: Yeah. Do us all a favor, Eugene. Or sit there and watch as the island descends into hell.

Xander: You all think you’ve planned this. Every last one of you. Ha! Ha! Ha!

Xander: Ha! Ha! Ha!

Xander: I let her go, Rhelan. We broke up. I did the right thing for once. You should be proud of me.

Grant: Shy are you so calm! That was the telepath!

Bartender: That bum? Hardly. He’s here every Wednesday. Here’s your champagne.

Grant: Goddammit Eugene.

Bartender. Hey, incidentally, he didn’t pay. You gonna cover this?

Grant: You take Eynhallow Barter Tender, don’t you?

Bartender: No, we’re in the Resistance. Cash or gold, thanks.

Grant: I’m gonna snap him out of his depression if it’s my last wild rodeo.

Grant: This is a stickup. Empty the till.