Angel, Season 1

Angel:
So, you're seeing someone? How come I haven't met him?

Cordelia:
'Cause I'm ashamed of you, not to mention how you'd embarrass me by giving him the third degree.

Emily:
Your boss could give me the third degree anytime.

Cordelia:
Oh, um... so... [collapses and convulses; Angel and Wesley try to distract Serena and Emily so they won't notice Cordelia having vision]

Angel:
[pushes some mail off desk] Um, uh, Cordelia! Grab that file.

Wesley:
[bending to pick up mail] Don't worry. Heh Heh. Whoopsie! [straightens up]

Angel:
Lounge La Brea. Sounds like that could be an evening with all sorts of evening type... I heard the bands there are...

Serena:
They don't have bands.

Angel:
Which I like, 'cause if it's too loud...

Emily:
Wanna come?

Angel:
Oh, I think I may be busy. [flash of Cordelia's vision] Besides, um, I don't, um, lounge... all that well.

Wesley:
[loud laugh] Good one. Oh, yes, no. He's no lounger, this one. [throws arm across Angel's shoulders] Hmm-mmm.

Serena:
[aside to Emily] The good ones are always gay. Cor, tick-tock. [Cordelia shakily stands]

Angel:
[asking about her vision] So, that client I'm supposed to be meeting tonight... What's he like again?

Cordelia:
Like a big baby hatching from a big egg, with really large hands, in need of a manicure. You're meeting him here. [writes down address, then moves toward door with girls]

Cordelia:
Okay. Are my girls ready to party?