The Twilight Saga

Nick Stokes: Hey, Greg
Greg Sanders: [looking through the microscope] Shh! I might be looking at the mother of my children here.
Nick Stokes: Somebody's been putting in way too much overtime.
Greg Sanders: No, man, this is serious. I had a date last night and this girl has the most impossible green eyes. Just... BAM! Shoulder-length blonde hair, intelligent, and she smells so good.
Nick Stokes: Cute toes?
Greg Sanders: Oh, ideal!
Nick Stokes: Mmm.
Greg Sanders: And none are longer than the big toe.
Nick Stokes: Mmm.
Greg Sanders: Both feet. But, you know, what I need to know is what's on the inside?
Nick Stokes: Oh, what's in her heart?
Greg Sanders: No... her DNA. And let me tell you, this girl has got some fine epithelials.
Nick Stokes: [laughing] Dude, you're sick. Man, you've officially lost it!
Greg Sanders: No, no. There is this guy in Louisville. He charges 300 clams to test your spouse's underwear for foreign DNA. Now, that guy is sick. I'm just a romantic.
Nick Stokes: But whatever happened to getting to know someone over coffee, letting the relationship evolve? Romantic is sending flowers, not bogarting her skin cells.
Greg Sanders: Ahh, that's boring.

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