Season One
The Bachelor Party
Cordelia: You two are really married?
Harry: Were and still, according to the paperwork.
Cordelia: So it was a green card thing?
Harry: Nope. It was a madly in love, couldn't live without each other kind of thing.
I'm definitely the yin to his yang, but it works. He's got a good heart, Francis, just like you.
Harry: Stop!
Angel: He's a demon!
Harry: Well, yeah!
I even tried to get him to go out. Meet other demons. At least go to one mixer, you know?
Harry: Richard wanted some time alone with Doyle to invite him to his bachelor party.
Cordelia: Bachelor party? Why? Was he afraid he ordered too much beer?
Harry: It was a nightmare. Well, maybe not at first. Initially, I really liked the way he took charge.
Cordelia: Doyle? Took charge?
Harry: Sometimes I felt like I was one of his students.
Cordelia: That's funny. For a moment, I thought you said one of Doyle's students.
Harry: It wasn't fun being treated like a third grader, believe me.
Cordelia: Grade third taught Doyle?! [pause] Doyle taught third grade?!
Harry: Yeah.
Cordelia: Are you sure he wasn't just held back and used that as a cover story?
Harrt: Francis got his teaching credentials before we even met at the Food Bank.
Cordelia: Okay, soup kitchen. Now that sounds more like the Doyle I've grown to know and revile. You're about to tell me he ran it, aren't you?
Harry: He was just a volunteer. That's when he got the idea for the whole We Are the World thing. I'm kidding about that part.
Aunt: Come on girls. It's pornographic Pictionary time!
Harry: Their ways are not our ways.
Harry: Richard said having the former husband present was some sort of tradition. I was just wondering . . . .
Aunt: Well, they're certainly not going to eat your ex-husband's brains . . . . for instance.
Harry: Stop it right this instant!
Richard: Hun bun? This is for guys only.
Harry: I know what you're up to Richard Howard Straley.
Richard: The stripper wasn't my idea, pook. I swear.
Harry: Not the stripper, Richard! < pause > There was a stripper?
Harry: Were you or were you not intending to eat my ex-husband's brains?
Richard: In a way . . . .
Harry: And when were you planning on telling me?
Richard: I thought maybe I wouldn't have to.
Harry: You were going to start our life out together with deceit?
Doyle: Sort of missing the point, isn't she?
Oh please, Uncle John. When's the last time you pried yourself away from ESPN to spill the blood of a she-goat?
One word, Francis. Just one word and I'll eat your brains.