To San: I'm not sure why you did it. Of all the things…why did you think that was a good idea?
To S from Q: *sings*Somebody's in trouble….
To Rach: Baby I love you but you're overreacting. He should regain feeling in his hand sometime later today and I swear that marker did not say permanent on it. And how was I supposed to know she was allergic to that? All had it coming.
To Q from S: Oh shut the hell up Tubbers or I'm gonna tell Britt what I found in your search history last month!
To Puck from S:CODE RED CODE RED RACH FOUND OUT! GET THE REST OF THE STUFF OUT BECAUSE SHE'S ON HER WAY THERE NOW!
To San: That's not the point, Santana Diabla!
To S from Q:LOL, like she'd believe you….
To S from Puck:Huh? 1 sec… ur gf's here.
To Rach: Baby I just saw Barbra Streisand going in to the office!
To Q from S:Bitch I screen shot that shit and have it saved in a draft on Tumblr so don't test me! Now go grab your best friend and get her away from the Choir room or I swear on all that is holy and good on this earth that you are going to have to explain a very particular kink to Brittany!
To Puck from S:NO YOU IDIOT ABORT ABORT GET THE TRASHCANS OUT OF THERE AND HIDE THE DAMN PUPPIES THIS IS NOT GOING TO END WELL!
To San: …Santana… explain.
To S from Q:My…someone's moody today. And I didn't have time to grab her. And she's looking mighty confused. Do I even want to know at this point?
To S from Puck:My bad.
To Rach: I'm sorry. The number you texted is a land line phone and cannot receive text messages.
To Q from S: Quinn it has been an honor and a privilege knowing you and being your friend I'm sorry I never told you that before.
To Puck from S:Just…tell me she didn't see the fireworks. Just give me that Puck.
To San: SANTANA LOPEZ WHY THE HELL ARE THERE FIREWORKS ARE YOU TRYING TO GET EXPELLED?
To S from Q:Calm down, you goofball. Just explain and I'm sure it'll be fine…. Wait, no, I take that back. She just found the octopus. I'll make sure they serve good food at your funeral.
To S from Puck:Oh shit….
To Rach: I regret nothing! That fucking neanderthal put you down and those cheerbitches with him just laughed! I will shoot bottle rockets up everyone of their asses until it gets my point across! I WILL GO DOWN WITH THIS SHIP!
To Q from S:Thanks. And please, please, please don't let Sylvester or Schue speak at it. Oh and take care of Nopetapus he's a sweetie and he really like carrots.
To Puck from S:You better hope your mom already bought you a plot dead boy.