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Parks-and-recreation

Andy: April, you're like an angel with no wings.
April: So like a person?

Guitarist: Look, if you're not going to pay rent, at least clean up your dishes.
Andy: Uhhhhhhhhh, is that all?
Guitarist: No. Also the bag of smells was a fun experiment, but it has to stop.
Andy: Come on, no. I'm finally starting to get serious results.

Tom: What about your trust fund?
Jean Ralphio: My parents had it amended. I don't get anything until I'm 50, which is a waste because I'm going to be a billionaire in Costa Rica by then. Eatin' dolphin and hangin' out with lady singers.

Jean Ralphio: No way. Yesterday if you would have asked me, I would have said no. But thank god my grandfather just died so I am a-flushed with cash.
Tom: Awesome. I have four thousand bucks. All I need you to do is kick in six Gs, and then you and I are part-owners of the hottest nightclub in Pawnee. Also, sorry about your grandpa.
Jean Ralphio: No worries, he was a dick.

I want to open up my own club one day, maybe call it something like Club a Dub Dub, or the Club Marine. Sort of a submarine-themed club. Or Tom's Bistro. The word bistro is classy as %#@$.

Tom

Awards are stupid, which is why I fully intend to decline this nonsense and recommend it go to Leslie because she works really hard and I don't. However, she cares way too much about crap like this, which is why I can't pass up this opportunity to tease her about it.

Ron

April: You're, um, Pawnee's Woman of the Year it looks like.
Ron: Oh, it's about time.

Winning is every girl's dream. But it's my destiny. And my dream.

Leslie

Every child has the right to play, no matter how boring the sport.

Leslie
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