Advanced Advanced Dungeons & Dragons

Buzz: Hank’s a knob. He doesn’t have any hobbies or interests. All he does is play that…What do you call that crap with the dungeons and the dragons?
Abed: Dungeons & Dragons.
Buzz: That’s the crap.

Abed: Nobody feels that we almost caused a suicide?
Jeff: We prevented one. Fa-bulous Neil felt like a nobody. And thanks to us, he’s still out there. Doing this and that in the background.

Hank: I am…oh boy. Joseph Gordon Diehard.

Annie: Hector the Well-Endowed? Again?
Chang: You think that’s a weird coincidence, I’m a troll named Dingleberry, that’s my mom’s nickname for me.

Buzz: Well, I’m assuming you guys can help me beat him. Because if we lose, I’m gonna punch each of you in the heart.

Buzz: Hey, pal, I didn’t scramper in the jungles of Nicaragua, and I’m not gonna do it now.

Buzz: I’ll imaginary sleep when I’m imaginary dead.

Jeff: Go find a name that’s not just another creature’s name plus “hob.”

Shirley: And I may be gone, but just remember whenever the wind whispers through the woods. You got me killed.

Hank: Look, you think I’m the bad guy because I didn’t invite him to my son’s birthday. But you know where he was for most of my birthdays? Little place that rhymes with “not there.”
Chang: Times Square?

Dean Pelton: I draw my sword, and I cry out. “Back, eight-legged demons! I will not scope you up with a catalog and let you outside on this day!”

Dean Pelton *VO*: Father, forgive me. I have traveled so far from you. How many game days since the skull river ripped us apart? How many real hours since I’ve gone pee? We seek this necromancer, why? Why? Our reasons are dreams, our dreams, dust. I send word on wings of sparrows, in hopes they might find you. Abed says the odds are near impossible. That’s enough for me. Should you recieve this message, I know of a way to reunite. According to my character sheet, if i rub the blade of our magic family sword while you rub the hilt. Twin beacons of light will reveal our locations to each other. Each night, I will think of you and rub, praying for the night fate will find us rubbing together. Your son, Joseph Gordon Diehard.

Annie: I spray all over them!

Dean Pelton: You’ve made me so proud today.
Jeff: Does anyone know where we can buy a real sword?