Separated out by fandoms, and all entirely G-rated except for an f-bomb, here goes...
I’ve got no option but to sell you all for scientific experiments.
“Get this judgment against Harvester Pharmaceuticals reversed by tomorrow,” Jessica dropped the folder on the conference table with a frown, sliding it with a purposeful push of her freshly manicured fingers until it rested right between where Harvey, Mike and Louis sat in a semi-circle, “…or I’ve got no option but to sell you all for scientific experiments.”
“I know what you’re thinking,” Louis glared at Harvey as Jessica walked away. “You actually believe you’d bring in more money than the rest of us put together if she did.”
“I don’t think I would,” Harvey caught Mike’s anticipatory eye roll, and gave him a light kick under the table. “I know I would.”
During the night old Perkins had his leg bitten sort of… off.
“Nooo way!” Mike muttered his amazement as close to Harvey’s ear as he’d whispered the question, trying to furtively glimpse the new security guard again without looking like he was looking at him on their way by to the elevators. “he lost it…seriously…from a bear….while camping?”
“God’s honest truth: Huge bear, one bite, bye-bye-femur….” Harvey tried but failed to keep a straight face, cackling under his breath as Mike huffed and then glaring over at him when Mike punched his arm hard.
“Yeah, yeah, all right… so I’m gullible, very funny…. asshole.”
I'm not actually who I say I am.
“Mike…cut it out, that’s not fucking funny.”
“It’s not funny… and it’s true,” Mike stood his ground by Harvey’s desk, fighting to find the strength to get the rest of the words out. “She … planted me here to get enough dirt to bust open the firm and ...she wants the photo op, you know? Each of you being paraded to court in bracelets…fodder for her tough justice campaign - but she’s not getting it because …I’m out. Because I’ll never give you up. And so we seriously need to go away, the both of us. Like… now.”
“Part of me wants to beat the shit out of you,” Harvey gritted the words, but… no: Mike crumpling microscopically in front of him, losing hope? Something shifted, and their futures were decided. “So…. where to?”
I don’t like sand.
“I don’t think sand is something to like or dislike, Danno,” Grace turned her water tap to off, sliding her slippahs back on. “Sand… is. Disliking sand would be like disliking …wind, or something.”
“Your kid’s way more Zen than you, Danny,” Steve hip checked him from where they were sharing the spigot next to her at the beach shower, grinning as Danny grumbled on - clearly annoyed after a morning of the waves kicking his backside harder than usual. “A sixteen year old is wiser and more Zen than you.”
“I don’t have to like sand!” Danny hip checked him back, visibly on the verge of going into rant mode. “I don’t have to like Hawaii, or the beach…. and right now I’m not so sure if I have ever liked you, Steven, but one thing I know is I DON’T HAVE TO LIKE SAND!”
Explain why the chicken crossed the road: A Cargument
“I refuse to play along with this stupidity, because it doesn’t matter - in no universe does it matter, not here, not anywhere, so…”
“It doesn’t have to matter, it’s a theoretical question and a kind of a thought experiment, so… c’mon....Why did the chicken…”
“Pull over and let me out; I’ve had it, I’ll walk back to HQ… Steven, seriously…pull …the car…over.
Please. This is supposed to be a happy occasion. Let’s not bicker and argue over who killed who…
“There’s nothing to frigging argue about…you killed us ALL, Crowley, you stupid fucker, including yourself!”
“I was under the impression from your eloquent and tersely worded plea for help, my darling squirrel, that it was your wish for you and Baby Brother to come rescue Castiel from The Empty, so….how precisely did you expect me to get you both here, a realm not exactly made for the …corporeal?”
“I think what Dean is trying to convey is that it would have been nice….a little heads up,” Sam attempted to get them back on track, waving in all directions - if there even were directions out there in the endless black. “…and meantime, we’re here, so… let’s go…that way, maybe?”
For one day, wishes come true
“But to answer your question, if I could be anything for a day I would be a piece of music that is performed in D-minor,” Castiel shrugged across the table at where Dean and Sam had begun abjectly shaking their heads at him. “What’s wrong with that? It’s the most beautiful, the most emotional key.”
“So… you could be anything,” Sam waved his beer widely around the room, clearly himself a little worse for their celebratory night of excessive drinking after a case, “…you could even be the whole universe if you choose, and everything in it all wrapped up in one - but you choose to be a single song?”
“Bah…this universe?” Cas ignored Dean’s ‘I give up’ gesture, Dean getting up to head for the fridge again. “It’s one of a billion; a simple backwater… and not nearly as beautiful as D-minor.”
I think my guardian angel’s trying to kill me.
“Dean, repeat after me: ‘It will not kill me if Castiel catches me and kisses me - in fact, it might make everything in my life a little bit better’….”
““Sam…. Sammmy, dammmit… helppp…helppppp….stop …stop him, trip him, karate chop him…..something…anything. Why did you let him drink that goddamned lovvve potionnnn…?”
“Would you have rather I’d been the one to offer to test…. it? Wait, I just heard it, don’t answer that.”
The Good Place
I’m worried about your coffee dependency.
“It’s not coffee, it’s antimatter - and I’m an eternal being; antimatter can only damage me minutely, would take something like….five trillion years to actually kill me, so…will you pass me the carafe, please, and let’s get back to work figuring where the demons took Chidi?”
“Dude, that makes no sense … consuming something for literally billions of years that kills you a little at a time.”
“Really? So… where do I start - oh, yes: Bacon, fast food, tequila, Lonely Girl margarita mix, the aluminum shaker you shake the cocktail in, the polluted water in the ice, the polluted water the shrimp are farmed in,” Michael pouted as he poured and sipped his antimatter, ignoring Eleanor lightly banging her head on the desk repeatedly. “….churros, processed meats of all sorts, refined sugar and baked goods of almost any kind, the air in virtually every city you have ever chosen to live in…..”
So, I had hoped to complete at least half but will have to be happy to have accomplished anything. :}. Happy April, hope the words are with us this month!