The Homecoming

Seth: Mom. Mom, no! No recipes. Put them away.
Kirsten: This is Ryan’s first Thanksgiving in the house and we’re going to make this meal as a family.

Kirsten: Are there pans? Are there any pans anywhere?
Sandy: Not inspiring a lot of confidence, darling.
Seth: Do you know what I dream about when I dream about Thanksgiving, which is often? I dream about eating so much deliciousness that all the blood rushes to my stomach and I pass out at the table. Please don’t deny me that.
Ryan: That’s just weird.

Seth: So you should probably be heading out soon.
Ryan: I gotta finish the stuffing. Then there’s the gravy, candied yams.
Seth: Yeah, and if you find enough cooking to last three to five years, then Trey’ll be out.

Kirsten: You think Ryan’s okay?
Sandy: I think he’ll be okay. He needs to do this.
Kirsten: Okay. Let me get in there, do some flipping.
Sandy: No no! Honey, honey! Seth really likes corn.
Kirsten: How do you expect me to get better?
Sandy: I don’t. I’m sorry, but the boys and I made a pact.
Kirsten: A pact?
Sandy: A solemn promise.
Kirsten: When?
Sandy: You were in the bathroom.

Ryan: Trey doesn’t even read comics.
Seth: Yeah, he doesn’t yet, But that’s because he hasn’t seen the new Titans.
Ryan: Titans. What about Legion? That was kinda cooler.
Seth: The guy’s in prison, man. Have you seen Oz? I’m sure that’ll be fine. But, yeah. The new Legion is cooler.

Sandy: We suck.
Kirsten: That was not very smooth.
Sandy: I told you this was a bad idea.
Kirsten: No you didn’t.

Seth: Did you guys hear that Ryan’s funny now.

Kirsten: We’re just working away.
Seth: Okay, if by “we” you’re referring to yourself then somebody violated the pact.
Kirsten: I am merely opening the wine. A skill I feel very confident about.
Seth: No argument here.

Sandy: So Anna, what’s the deal? You’re parents don’t believe in celebrating the genocide of the American Indian?

Sandy: Look, Jimmy’s a good guy.
Rachel: He’s a thief.
Sandy: And you’re a lawyer. It’s a perfect match.

Sandy greeting Caleb and Julie: Ah! the gruesome twosome!

Theresa: Ryan Atwood.
Ryan: Theresa, hi. Arturo in?
Theresa: You’re just going to ask for my stupid brother? You’re not even going to tell me where the hell you’ve been for the last five months?

Anna: Mr. Nichol, you own the Heights, right? The property above the wetlands.
Caleb: Not you too.
Anna: No, I was just wondering. How do you feel about building a huge development that only pollutes and destroys hallowed ground?

Summer: I just can’t help it.
Seth: Uh uh.
Summer: And I certainly can’t explain it. You didn’t tell anyone?
Seth: Of course not.
Summer: ‘Cause I’ll kill you.
Seth: No, I believe you.

Seth trying to be heard over the blender: Hey, so Marissa’s with Ryan.
Kirsten: What?
Seth: I said Marissa’s in Chino.
Kirsten: I can’t hear you!
Seth: I said Marissa is in Chino! Wow. That actually happens in real life.
Kirsten: What? What did you say?
Seth: Yeah, no. I said that Marissa has my chinos. I love those pants.
Caleb: Looks like we’ll be here awhile. to Kirsten You ready to talk?
Kirsten to all: Fresh margs?

Ryan: Hey man. What are you doing?
Seth: Not… lying with Captain Oats.
Marissa: Why are you on the floor?
Seth: I figured I’d just end up her anyway so might as well cut out the middleman.
Ryan: Well looks like things went pretty well.
Seth: Yeah, same for you. Nice shiner.
Marissa: Yeah. So can we sit with you and Captain Oats?
Seth: Yeah. Please. Hey, nothing says Thanksgiving like Moo Shu Pork. So what’d your brother say?
Ryan: Goodbye.
Seth: So Chino was, ah….
Ryan: It’s good to be home.
Marissa: Hey. So Seth, did you know that Ryan did musicals?
Seth: Ryan, that’s extremely minty of you. I didn’t even know they had musicals in Chino. I didn’t even
know they had dancing. Or… laughter.
Ryan: That’s because no one who lived there is as funny as you.
Seth: So, we finally agree that I’m the funny one. Well look at that! Looks like we all learned some valuable lessons this Thanksgiving. It’s heartwarming.