Ron Burgundy: You pooped in the refrigerator? And you ate the whole wheel of cheese? How’d you do that? Heck, I’m not even mad, that’s amazing!
Ron Burgundy: I freakin’ love you.
Veronica Corningstone: I freakin’ love you back.
Ron Burgundy: You’re so wise. You’re like a miniature Buddha, covered with hair.
Brian Fantana: I think I was in love once.
Ron Burgundy: Really? What was her name?
Brian Fantana: I don’t remember.
Ron Burgundy: That’s not a good start, but keep going.
Brian Fantana: She was Brazilian, or Chinese, or something weird. I met her in the bathroom of a K-Mart and we made out for hours. Then we parted ways, never to see each other again.
Ron Burgundy: I’m pretty sure that’s not love.
Brian Fantana: Damn it.
Ron Burgundy: I love scotch. Scotchy, scotch, scotch. Here it goes down, down into my belly.
Brick Tamland: I love carpet. I love desk.
Ron Burgundy: Brick, are you just looking at things in the office and saying that you love them?
Brick Tamland: I love lamp.
Ron Burgundy: Do you really love the lamp, or are you just saying it because you saw it?
Brick Tamland: I love lamp. I love lamp.
Frank Vitchard: I am gonna straight-up murder your ass.
Ron Burgundy: Knights of Columbus, that hurt.
Veronica Corningstone: My God, what is that smell? Oh.
Brian Fantana: That’s the smell of desire my lady.
Veronica Corningstone: God no, it smells like, like a used diaper filled with Indian food. Oh, excuse me.
Brian Fantana: You know, desire smells like that to some people.
Garth Holliday: What is that? Smells like a turd covered in burnt hair.
Ron Burgundy: By the beard of Zeus.
Champ Kind: The bottom line is you’ve been spending a lot of time with this lady, Ron. You’re a member of the Channel Four News Team.
Ron Burgundy: That’s a given.
Champ Kind: We need you. Hell, I need you. I’m a mess without you. I miss you so damn much. I miss being with you, I miss being near you. I miss your laugh. I miss your scent; I miss your musk. When this all gets sorted out, I think you and me should get an apartment together.
Brian Fantana: Take it easy, Champ. Why don’t you stop talking for a while.
Ron Burgundy: [to Veronica Corningstone as the news has just gone off the air] You’re a real hooker. I’m gonna slap you in public.
Brian Fantana: No, she gets a special cologne. It’s called Sex Panther by Odeon. It’s illegal in nine countries. Yep, it’s made with bits of real panther, so you know it’s good.
Ron Burgundy: It’s quite pungent.
Brian Fantana: Oh yeah.
Ron Burgundy: It’s a formidable scent. It stings the nostrils. In a good way.
Brian Fantana: Yep.
Ron Burgundy: Brian, I’m gonna be honest with you, that smells like pure gasoline.
Brian Fantana: They’ve done studies, you know. 60% of the time, it works every time.
Ron Burgundy: That doesn’t make sense.
Brian Fantana: Well, let’s go see is we can make this little kitty purr.
Ron Burgundy: I’m gonna shoot you with a BB gun when you’re not looking. Yep, back of the head.
Ron Burgundy: Everyone just relax, all right? Believe me, if there’s one thing Ron Burgundy knows, it’s women.
Brian Fantana: I don’t know, Ron.
Ron Burgundy: Guess what, I do. I know that one day Veronica and I are gonna to get married on top of a mountain, and there’s going to be flutes playing and trombones and flowers and garlands of fresh herbs. And we will dance till the sun rises. And then our children will form a family band. And we will tour the countryside and you won’t be invited.
Brick Tamland: I would like to extend to you an invitation to the pants party.
Public TV News Anchor: Not so fast, you ingrates. Public News Team is taking a break from its pledge drive to kick some ass. No commercials; no mercy.
Brick Tamland: I pooped a hammer.
Ron Burgundy: I don’t know how to put this but I’m kind of a big deal.
Veronica Corningstone: Really.
Ron Burgundy: People know me.
Veronica Corningstone: Well, I’m very happy for you.
Ron Burgundy: I’m very important. I have many leather-bound books and my apartment smells of rich mahogany.
Brick Tamland: I pooped a Cornish game hen.
Ron Burgundy: Sweet Lincoln’s mullet.
Veronica Corningstone: Mr. Burgundy, you have a massive erection.
Ron Burgundy: Oh, uh, it’s the pleats…
Ron Burgundy: You stay classy, San Diego. I’m Ron Burgundy?
Ed Harken: Dammit. Who typed a question mark on the Teleprompter?
Brick Tamland: I ate fiberglass insulation. It wasn’t cotton candy like the guy said… my tummy itches.
Ron Burgundy: Discovered by the Germans in 1904, they named it San Diego, which of course in German means a whale’s vagina.
Veronica Corningstone: No, there’s no way that’s correct.
Ron Burgundy: I’m sorry, I was trying to impress you. I don’t know what it means. I’ll be honest, I don’t think anyone knows what it means anymore. Scholars maintain that the translation was lost hundreds of years ago.
Veronica Corningstone: Doesn’t it mean Saint Diego?
Ron Burgundy: No. No.
Veronica Corningstone: No, that’s – that’s what it means. Really.
Ron Burgundy: Agree to disagree.