About: Fries Night/Transcript

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An Entity of Type : owl:Thing, within Data Space : 134.155.108.49:8890 associated with source dataset(s)

Pam: Listen, Benson. We need to talk. Benson: We are talking. Ooh, wanna hear how many pushups I did at training today? Pam: No, we need to really talk. Benson: Oh, okay. Pam: This...this isn't working for me anymore. Benson: Mm-hmm, mm-hmm. Pam: Benson, you're a great guy, but I have no idea when you're coming back, or-or if you're coming back. Benson: Sure, sure. Pam: You know, statistically, the further away two mates are from each other, the less likely it is that their realationship will last. I've done the calculations, and our odds *sniffles* are only 1.35%. Benson: Mm-hmm. Benson: What?

Attributes	Values
rdfs:label	Fries Night/Transcript
rdfs:comment	Pam: Listen, Benson. We need to talk. Benson: We are talking. Ooh, wanna hear how many pushups I did at training today? Pam: No, we need to really talk. Benson: Oh, okay. Pam: This...this isn't working for me anymore. Benson: Mm-hmm, mm-hmm. Pam: Benson, you're a great guy, but I have no idea when you're coming back, or-or if you're coming back. Benson: Sure, sure. Pam: You know, statistically, the further away two mates are from each other, the less likely it is that their realationship will last. I've done the calculations, and our odds sniffles are only 1.35%. Benson: Mm-hmm. Benson: What?
dcterms:subject	Transcripts Transcripts Season Eight Transcripts Season Eight Transcripts
abstract	Pam: Listen, Benson. We need to talk. Benson: We are talking. Ooh, wanna hear how many pushups I did at training today? Pam: No, we need to really talk. Benson: Oh, okay. Pam: This...this isn't working for me anymore. Benson: Mm-hmm, mm-hmm. Pam: Benson, you're a great guy, but I have no idea when you're coming back, or-or if you're coming back. Benson: Sure, sure. Pam: You know, statistically, the further away two mates are from each other, the less likely it is that their realationship will last. I've done the calculations, and our odds sniffles are only 1.35%. Benson: Mm-hmm. Pam: I'm...I'm-I'm sorry, Benson. It's not you, it's just...math. I think we should just be friends. Benson: I get it. I was sent millions of miles into space against my will, you're back on Earth... Pam: Are you sure you're okay? Benson: I totally understand. I am good. Benson (continued): Pa-a-am!! Why?! Rigby: Okay, okay, okay. My turn. Mordecai: Hmm-hmm-hmm. Rigby: Would your rather have spaghetti for fingers, or have spiders crawl out of your mouth every time you yawn? Mordecai: Hm. That's a good one. If I eat my spaghetti fingers, do they grow back? Rigby: Yes, but they're whole wheat pasta. Mordecai: Aw sick, dude! Well, in that case, I gotta go with- uhh... Mordecai (continued): Uh-oh. Mordecai (continued): Um, hey, buddy. Everything okay, man? Benson: No. Pam dumped me. I've been eating all these wings, but they're not making me feel any better. Rigby: Hey, wait. Didn't you and Pam eat wings on your first date? Benson: Oh nooooooooo! That's why they're not working! They're just making me think about Pam! Mordecai: Whoa, whoa! Forget about wings. Rigby: Yeah, these space wings are wack anyways. We know what'll make you feel better. Benson: What? Mordecai & Rigby: Umm...frriiiiiiieeeeee...Fries! Benson: Fries? Mordecai: Crispy, delicious fries! I'm talkin' curly! Rigby: Crisp cut! Mordecai: Wedge cut! Rigby: Crinkle cut! Mordecai: Shoe-string! Rigby: Artisanal salt, yo!

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