Gav: Hi Jeannie! Five hundred CC's of tritium antidote, stat, my good woman!

Jeannie: I'm assuming, and by that, I mean please don't explain, that you mean Guinness, of which, sadly, we are out.

[[Gav stands frozen]]
Farah: The barstools have all been cleared off the floor, Jeannie! Now what?
Jeannie: Nevermind, Farah. It looks like the catatonic rather than epileptic response.

Farah: So... Plan K?
Jeannie: We don't HAVE a Plan K.
Farah: Good. I don't think I could lift him.