Xander: What’s the difference? What is the actual difference between what she did and what I’ve done here for forty years?

Xander: If— if you were in full fighting form you would have told me that there was no difference whatsoever. And that I am sure to go to hell,

Xander: to keep poor solitary Hitler company, between Joseph Stalin’s temporary visits from purgatory,— not even enough denizens for a bridge game—

Xander:— so we’ll have to settle for go-fish— straight-to-hell!

Xander: {ugh} everything she told me was true. Vampire relatives, richest Illuminati family in the world, those ridiculous, unbelievable things about running a diamond cartel & trafficking in slaves.

Xander: There was something about slaves, right? It’s all been true and I’ve missed it because I didn’t want to believe it despite the evidence.

Xander: Quite a vulnerability, don’t you think, for me?

Grant: You may be able to laugh but I can’t just look the other way.

Xander: Take it before a judge. “Your honor, a psychic gave me a vision of the girl he’s lusting after murdering a non-citizen in a foreign country a decade ago.”

Xander: I shouldn’t have said that.