Frame Toby

Dwight:Those brownies will be gone in 4.2 minutes at that consumption rate. Disgusting. You're basically inhaling them like some kind of baked good vacuum. Have you no self-control? No dignity? I eat exactly one square of brownie per sitting, chewed precisely 32 times for optimal digestion and nutrient absorption.

Dwight:No thank you. I only eat foods in their most natural state. Brownies are processed sugar and chocolate. Now, beef jerky—that's real food. An animal died for this. That's honest nutrition.

Dwight:I initially rejected the brownies because they were not superior in quality. However, upon further inspection, I determined they met acceptable nutritional and taste parameters. Therefore, I revised my assessment and acquired them for consumption. This represents sound decision-making based on new data, not weakness or social capitulation.

Kevin:I'm not eating these brownies now, I'm eating them later. That makes them healthier because by then I'll have worked out.

Kevin:It's all about timing, people.

Michael:A brownie for Toby? Why don't you get him a nice gun so he can kill himself.

Michael:Jim, you got me. You really got me. I can't believe you managed to... wait, Toby's actually back? That's not a prank, is it?

Jim:No, that's real.

Michael:Oh my God. That's worse than any prank you could have pulled.

Michael:Oh my God! Oh my God! No, no, no, no, no! This is not happening. This is not real. Someone pinch me. Pinch me! Why is no one pinching me?!

Michael:He's back. He's actually back. This is worse than any horror movie. This is a nightmare. A real, living, breathing nightmare sitting at that desk right now.

Michael:You are the worst. You are... you're just the worst person that I've ever met. You are a... you're such a stupid... your stupid face. And your stupid... stupid tan.

Jim:Toby looks great. Well-rested.

Michael:No, he doesn't.

Jim:Yeah.

Michael:You think just because you can't see the scars doesn't mean they're not there. Toby's return has caused invisible psychological damage to everyone in this office. We're all wounded. We're all broken inside.

David:Why did you text 911?

Michael:I was just... I needed someone to talk to.

David:So you abused the emergency code?

Michael:I guess when you put it that way, it sounds bad. But I was having a really hard time, and I just wanted attention.

Michael:I don't go to the annex. It's icky.

Jim:It's not icky.

Michael:Icky.

Jim:...It's a little icky.

Michael:I don't need a reason. He is the worst. Everything he does bothers me. And the fact that you are ordering me to be politically correct is the worst thing you've ever done to me.

David:Michael, you cannot fire someone just because you don't like them.

Michael:But I really, really don't like him.

Michael:Why would you do that? That's disgusting.

Toby:I'm just getting a drink of water.

Michael:Exactly. Disgusting.

Kevin:I saw Jim's emails about buying a house. I've got the eyes of an eagle.

Jim:Eyes of an eagle?

Kevin:Yeah, I can see things from far away. Like an eagle.

Pam:Kevin, that doesn't make sense.

Kevin:What? Yes it does. Eagles have really good vision. I have really good vision. Therefore, I'm like an eagle.

Jim:Yeah, we've got this creepy clown painting in our hallway. Pam wants to get rid of it, but I told her it really ties the room together.

Jim:Plus, it's a great conversation starter. Nothing says 'welcome to our home' like a disturbing painted clown staring into your soul.

Creed:We should hang out sometime. We live pretty close to each other.

Jim:Yeah, sure.

Creed:I know this great spot where we can go dig up graves and steal their jewelry.

Jim:...Okay.

Pam:Ryan, someone needs to clean the microwave.

Ryan:That's not my responsibility. Dirty microwaves are a sign of a successful business.

Pam:What? That makes no sense.

Ryan:Think about it. Rich people don't clean their own microwaves. They have people for that. So if our microwave is dirty, we're basically rich.

Pam:We're not rich, Ryan.

Ryan:Not yet. But we will be if we keep this microwave exactly as it is.

Michael:I'm going to be so nice to Toby, he won't know what hit him. I'm talking Kurt Russell in Escape from New York level of charm and sophistication.

Michael:I was trying to be nice, okay? I was being considerate. But apparently that makes me an evil snail.

Michael:You know what? This is like a horror movie. Toby is the serial killer, and all of you are just waiting to get picked off one by one.

Jim:Michael, that doesn't even make sense.

Michael:No, no, no. Think about it. He's lurking. In the shadows. Waiting. And one by one, he's going to destroy us. With his... his evilness.

Pam:He's in HR, Michael.

Michael:Exactly! The perfect cover. Nobody suspects HR.

Michael:What are you doing?

Dwight:I'm using myself as sexual bait to catch the Scranton Strangler.

Michael:Dwight, no.

Dwight:Dwight, yes. I am a very attractive man, and the Strangler will not be able to resist me.

Dwight:I'm an excellent bait. I have a very high-yield return on investment. Bears eat beets. Bears, beets, Battlestar Galactica.

Jim:Identity theft is not a joke, Jim!

Dwight:Millions of families suffer every year.

Dwight:I'm wearing a mustard-colored shirt. It makes me more attractive to the opposite sex. In fact, studies show that women are overwhelmingly attracted to men in mustard.

Ryan:Hey Pam, come here for a second.

Pam:Yeah, sure.

Ryan:You just moved away from me.

Pam:No, I didn't.

Ryan:You literally just took a step back.

Pam:I was just... adjusting my stance.

Michael:Come on, Toby! Just one punch! Right in the face!

Toby:Michael, I'm not going to punch you. That would be assault.

Michael:But everyone wants you to! Don't you want to be popular?

Toby:No, I want to follow company protocol and maintain a professional workplace.

Michael:Dammit, Toby!

Dwight:Oh, I've framed many animals. A possum for a break-in. A raccoon for a hit and run. A woodchuck for tax evasion.

Dwight:Framing seems mean.

Dwight:The ends justify the mean.

Michael:Hey, you guys wouldn't happen to know where I could score some weed, would you?

Teenager:Uh... no?

Michael:Right, right. I'm not a cop, by the way. I have a signed note from my doctor saying I'm not a cop.

Michael:Also, I have cash. A lot of it. And I know where you kids hang out.

Michael:I'm just saying, I'm cool. I listen to hip-hop. I have a goatee.

Pam:Ryan, you should really clean the microwave.

Ryan:No way. I'd probably just make it worse. I'd end up breaking it or setting something on fire.

Andy:Yes, hello, I'd like to report a drug deal happening at the corner of Fifth and Main.

Andy:The suspect is a tall man with a goatee wearing a red shirt. That's Andy Bernard calling.

Police Officer:Sir, we found these controlled substances in the drawer.

Michael:Oh, those are mine. That's my salad. I've been dieting.

Police Officer:Your... salad?

Michael:Yeah, it's a kale and quinoa situation. Very healthy.

Dwight:Wait, so there's no arrest? No charges? No perp walk?

Dwight:This is unacceptable.

Michael:You're a liar, Toby.

Toby:What? I'm not a liar.

Michael:Oh yeah? Then explain this. I think you're a great guy and you do a wonderful job here.

Michael:See? A lie.

Ryan's girlfriend:So... can you lend me like two grand for my Thailand trip?

Ryan:Yeah... yeah, okay.

Jim:And this is the master bedroom. Unfortunately, I'm banned from it.

Pam:What? Why?

Jim:Pam decorated it, and she said if I mess anything up, I have to sleep in the guest room for a month.

Dwight:The entire elaborate, romantic, multi-generational heist fantasy