Chandler: OK, what is it about me? Do I not look fun enough? Is there something...repellent...about me?
Ross: So how was the party?
Chandler: Well it couldn't've been worse. A woman literally passed through me. OK, so what is it, am I hideously unattractive?
Phoebe: No, you are not, you are very attractive. You know what, I go through the exact same thing. Every time I put on a little weight, I start questioning everything.
Chandler: Woah, woah, I've, I've put on a little weight?
Phoebe: No, not weight...you know, more like insulation.
Monica: Chandler, I'm unemployed and in dire need of a project. You wanna work out? I-I can remake you.
Chandler: Oh, you know, I would, but that might get in the way of my lying around time.
All: Come on. Let her do it. Yeah.
Chandler: Alright, OK, alright. But if we put on Spandex and my boobs are bigger than yours, I'm going home.
Phoebe: Your boobs are fine. Look, I never should've said anything. Come here. Come here.
Phoebe: Oh, can't make...hands. . meet. .
Joey: OK! -Monica: Hi
Joey: Let's do it!
Monica: Nothing, just never seen you in little stretchy pants before. It's cute!
Chandler: And we're changing.
Monica: Come on, give me five more! Five more! -Chandler: No.
Monica: Five more and I'll flash you.
Chandler: One...two...two and a half.
Chandler: OK, just show me one of them.
Chandler: Ow, ow, ow...
Chandler: She's insane, the woman is insane. It's before work, it's after work, it's during work. She's got me doing butt clenches at my desk. And now, they won't bring me my mail anymore.
Rachel: Hey Pheebs, how'd it go with Scott last night?
Phoebe: Oh, um, it was nice. Took him to a romantic restaurant, ordered champagne, nice.
Joey: The guy still won't put out, huh?
Phoebe: Nope, zilch, nothing, uh-uh.
All: Sorry Pheebs.
Phoebe: Look, I, you know, I don't mind taking it slow, I like him a lot, you know he's really interesting and he's really sweet and why won't he give it up?
Joey: Maybe he, uhh...drives his car on the other side of the road, if you know what I mean.
Phoebe: No, what'd you mean? He's not British.
Joey: Maybe he's...gay.
Phoebe: Oohh, um, no, I don't think that's the problem.
Phoebe:'Cause we went, um, dancing the other night and just the way he held me so close, and the way he was looking into my eyes I just like...definitely felt something.
Rachel: Yeah, but how much can you tell from a look?
Phoebe: No, I felt it on my hip. I could tell.
Monica: Yo, Bing! Racquetball in 20 minutes.
Chandler: Joey, be a pal. Lift up my hand and smack her with it.
Phoebe: Ooh, oh, Rachel, don't look.
Rachel: Come on you guys. I don't care. I have a date tonight.
Joey: Woah, woah, woah, you have a date?
Rachel: Yeah, Monica set me up.
Joey: But uh, what about uh, Ross and uh...?
Rachel: Oh what, my whole insane jealousy thing? Well, you know, as much fun as that was, I've decided to opt for sanity.
Chandler: So you really OK about all this?
Rachel: Oh yeah, Come on, I'm moving on. He can press her up against that window as much as he wants. For all I care, throw her through the damn thing.
Ross: Hi guys. - All: Hey.
Ross: Oh, Monica, I figured I'd come by tomorrow morning and pick up Fluffy's old cat toy, so ok?
Monica: Only if you say his full name.
Ross: Can I come over tomorrow and pick up Fluffy Meowington's cat toy.
Joey: You're getting a cat?
Ross: Uh, actually, we're getting a cat.
Ross: Uh huh.
Rachel: Both of you? Together?
Julie: Yeah, we figure it'll live with Ross half the time, and with me half the time.
Rachel: Ohh, well, isn't that just lovely. That's something the two of you will be able to enjoy for a really, really, really, really, really long time.
Rachel: Well. Woah, look at that! I gotta go, I gotta date. With a man. Um, OK, you guys have a really, uh, have a really good night and you two have a, uh, have a, uh, really good cat.
Rachel: OK, we're not supposed to take these when we leave.
Michael: I don't know if Monica told you but this is the first date I've gone on since my divorce so, if I seem a little nervous, I am.
Rachel: How long do cats live?
Michael: I'm sorry?
Rachel: Cats, how long do they live figuring you don't...you know, throw them under a bus or something?
Michael: Um, maybe 15,16 years.
Rachel: That's just great.
Michael: Um, cheers.
Rachel: Oh, right, clink.
Michael: Monica told you I was cuter that this, didn't she?
Rachel: Oh, no, Michael, it's not you. I'm sorry, it's just, it's this thing. It's probably not as bad as it sounds but this friend of mine is, is getting a cat with his girlfriend.
Michael: Oh, that does sound...Ahh.
Rachel: I mean he just started going out with her.
Michael: Is this guy, uhh, an old boyfriend?
Rachel: Ah, hah-hah-hah-ho, yeah, he wishes. Oh, I'm sorry, look at me. OK, Michael, let's talk about you.
Rachel: OK, OK. So, you ever get a pet with a girlfriend?