The One with All the Thanksgivings

I couldn't possibly eat another bite. I need something sweet.

Monica, your remote doesn't work. You have to lift it and point.

Very nice. The other day, I was at the bus stop... and this lovely fall breeze came and blew this chick's skirt up.

Which reminds me, I'm also thankful for thongs.

It's not so much an underpant as a feat of engineering.

And they play with your mind. Is it there? Is it not there?

Are you aware that you're still talking? Is anyone thankful for anything else besides a thong?

I don't know. Am I more thankful for my divorce or my eviction?

And I didn't think you'd be able to come up with anything.

I'm sorry. This is the worst Thanksgiving ever. I am the king of bad Thanksgivings. You can't swoop in with your bad marriage and take that away from me.

It's a tradition, like the parade. If the parade decided it was gay and abandoned its family.

Now, Chandler, dear... just because we're getting a divorce... doesn't mean we don't love you. It just means... he would rather sleep with the houseboy than with me.

More turkey, Mr. Chandler?

Every time you tell that story, that guy's accent gets thicker and thicker.

So are he and your dad still together? No. After they got their own place, the houseboy got his own houseboy.

Should have heard his accent. You're right, yours is worse. You're the king of bad Thanksgivings.

Really? Worse than, 'More turkey, Mr. Chandler?'

Did the little rich boy have a problem with the butler?

Of course, you don't, sweetie. You're brand-new.

Joey got a turkey stuck on his head? It's not like it sounds. It's exactly like it sounds.

Oh, my God! I know! It's stuck!

Help me get it off! Plus, it smells really bad in here.

Of course it smells bad. You have your head up a dead animal's ass.

Get that off now! I can't. It's stuck! It has to feed 20 people. They're not going to eat it off your head!

I got it! You pull. I'll spread the legs as wide as I can.

Now is not the time.

It worked! I scared you! I knew it!

Remember when Ross tried to say 'butternut squash'... and it came out, 'squatternut bosh'?

Yeah, that's the same.

For me, anyway. And, of course, the Indians.

Monica, can you just call it sex? It really creeps me out when you call it that.

And by the way... while we're at it, a guy's thing is not called his 'tenderness.'

Believe me.

Might want to rethink the lyrics to 'She Feels Weird Since I've Been Gone.'

Call them Mom and Dad, you loser.

And Chip promised that this time it'd last at least for an entire song.

Right, Clifford Alvarez? Listen, Roland Cheng...

It's not that. I just don't want to be stuck here with your fat sister.

Judy, you did it. She's finally full!

I can't believe you let George Michael slap you.

Mine had a dwarf that got broke in half, but, you know, whatever.

I had to. There was never any parking by the psychology building.

She plays for both teams.

I want him to be naked, and I want to point at him and laugh.

First of all, if you keep calling it that, no one will take it.

Like this dish towel. This feels so good against my cheek.

I love the way this box feels against my cheek.

And I put the cool steel... against... my body.

They're made of wicker!

Toes on Ice, coming soon to Madison Square Garden.

You brought a carrot. This isn't your toe. This is a small, very cold piece of carrot.

Oh, my God! There's a toe in my kitchen.

I'm not falling for that one.

That's why for an entire year people called me Sir Limps-a-lot?

Sir Limps-a-lot. I came up with that.

'Sorry' doesn't bring back the piggy that cried all the way home.

I'm a duck. I go quack-quack. I'm happy all the time.

I bet this will work.

Nothing. I said you're so great, and then I just stopped talking.

You said you loved me. I can't believe this! No, I didn't! Yes, you did! No, I didn't! You love me! No, I don't! Stop it, stop it, stop it!