Daphne: We need to get you a blood transfusion. What’s your type?
Danny: Funny, optimistic, preferably a clock spirit—
Daphne: I meant your blood type
Danny:
Danny: Oh. Makes sense. Come to think of it, I don’t know.
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Daphne: We need to get you a blood transfusion. What’s your type?
Danny: Funny, optimistic, preferably a clock spirit—
Daphne: I meant your blood type
Danny:
Danny: Oh. Makes sense. Come to think of it, I don’t know.

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Colton: It’s really dark in here.
Danny: Don’t worry, I got this.
Danny: *stomps heelies*
Danny: *slips and falls*
Danny: Shit. I thought I was wearing my light up Sketchers.
Danny: I really want a remote that can make people shut the fuck up with the click of a button.
Zavier: *throws a gun across the table*
Colton: Let’s have a birthday cake.
Danny: It isn’t anywhere close to either or our birthdays???
Colton: The cake doesn’t know that.
Danny:
Danny: That’s true. Let’s get two.
Zavier: What should I be for Halloween?
Edmund: A normal person?
Danny: Less of a loser?
Aunt Jo: A competent human?
Zavier: I am no longer taking suggestions.

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Cassie: My best friend is a boy. We made a pact that if we’re both still single at 35, we’ll hunt each other for sport.
Cassie: Do you have any shampoo?
Colton: No. I don’t like the way it tastes.
Cassie: You eat shampoo?
Colton: No. It’s disgusting.
Zavier: Bigfoot, but shaven.
Sally: Mr. Clean.
Aunt Jo: You two are the reason I have anxiety.