3.13 "Postgame Mortem"

Aired Feb 13, 2007


Quotes

  • Veronica: Well, look on the bright side.

    Wallace: Of a twenty-point loss? In which the All-Conference small forward quit the team.

    Veronica: Well, you did play a lot of minutes for a guy who had to quit the team first semester. That's a side, and it's somewhat bright.

    Wallace: Me starting means Mason isn't. And that's been awkward.

    Veronica: Why? If you're the better player...

    Wallace: That's the thing. I'm not sure I am. It's just that Mason's always in the coach's doghouse, and I'm—

    Veronica: You're you.

    Wallace: So, he hasn't been speaking to me. Bright-side-wise, it's break-even at best. You get one more try.

    Veronica: Well...I got nothing. Walk it off, Fennel.

  • Wallace: You doing okay? With the Logan situation, I mean?

    Veronica: I've been trying really hard not to think about it, so...thanks for bringing it up.

  • Note from Keith: "If you've eaten any of this breakfast, you now owe me. Invoices have to go out today. See you at the office."

    Veronica: And I always fall for it.

  • Professor Corrigan: Mr. Casablancas, I don't suppose your buddy Logan Echolls is gracing us with his presence today.

    Dick: Doubtful. When they remove a grapefruit-sized tumour, they really recommend bed rest.

    Professor Corrigan: You might let him know that if he misses another class, he shouldn't bother showing up again. He'll fail automatically.

    Dick: I'll let him know your prayers are with him.

  • Hotel Manager: Mr. Echolls, I'm more than happy to give you your hamburger. We'd just like to take some of our trays.

    Logan: Leave the food and go.

    Jeff: We're out of salt and pepper shakers.

  • Dick: Did you hear about the fire in Veronica's neighborhood? Somebody's meth lab blew up or something. Bet you can see it from the balcony. I'm gonna take a shower. You guys go to town.

  • Dick: So, I got a message for you from the guy who teaches our economics class. You got to show up, or he's gonna fail you. Sad state of affairs when I'm the academic on the balcony.

  • Dick: So, in other news, I met this girl a couple weeks ago at a party. Hot! Like, volcanic hot. Like, I might have to use an oven mitt to feel her up. Blink if you understand. She's coming here tonight, and she's bringing her sister, who, I might add, she described as practically her twin. By the way, I did a little research on pathetic sad sackery, and "hot sister" is the recommended treatment.

    Logan: No, thanks.

    Dick: You sure? We're thinking about going to the swim team's beach blanket blow-out. You can wear your t-shirt that says, "I'd rather be home crying."

  • Keith: It's as bad as she says? Lamb's going after the kid?

    Cliff: Well, he was thinking very hard about it, or he really had to pee. It's hard to tell with that man.

  • Dick: Dude, you're not helping.

    Logan: I'm aware of that.

    Dick: I live here, too, you know. This is my home. People walk in, they don't think, "this little clean area is Dick's, and the hidden bottles of urine are Logan's." They think "Silence of the Lambs basement," and their desire to get naked near me takes a nose dive. You're lucky you're rich. This would be completely disgusting.

  • Dick: Hello, gorgeous! Come in and meet Logan. He doesn't normally look like this. Uh, some chick ripped out his heart and stomped on it. Logan Echolls, Melinda and Heather Button.

    Logan: Which one's yours?

  • Veronica: Hey, Weevil, I'm trying to have a word with whoever's running the PCHers these days, and I was hoping you might be able to hook me up.

    Weevil: Sure thing. Let me just call my parole officer and give him a heads-up I'll be cavorting with known criminals.

  • Logan: Where are you? Why aren't you here?

    Dick: Dude, I'm in Vegas. Things got a little crazy last night. We decided to take a road trip. I think I'm in love, man.

    Logan: Mazel tov. Get your ass back to Neptune.

    Dick: I would, but we just got here. The ride was a bitch.

    Logan: Imagine how much you'll hate it bound in the trunk of my car.

    Dick: It's not like you're leaving the suite anyway. And I wasn't going to play this card, but — shuffle, shuffle, shuffle — you slept with my one long-term girlfriend, dude.

  • Weevil: I don't know what to say. Gang kids are usually quite punctual.

    Veronica: It's all right. Part of me actually hopes they don't show.

    Weevil: Veronica Mars, scared of a few bikers? Not even a quarter college-educated and already you're square as—

    Veronica: It's not the bikers, per se. It's more what they represent.

    Weevil: I rest my case.

    Veronica: If they show, they probably didn't do it, which would look not so good for Josh. If they don't show, there's a good chance they did it.

    Weevil: Maybe they're here to confess.

  • Veronica: I am interested to see who replaced you at the top of the food chain.

    Arturo: You brought me here to talk to her?

    Weevil: You know each other?

    Veronica: I caught Arturo here mugging pizza boys last year and taped him to a pole. You gave me the impression running the gang was a man's job.

    Weevil: It was.

  • Veronica: Lots of people think you're responsible for the coach's death. If it wasn't you, tell me why I should believe it.

    Arturo: '96 roadmaster.

    Veronica: Is that some kind of code?

    Weevil: It's a car. Ten-year-old station wagon.

    Arturo: That's what the paper said the coach was driving. You think we're gonna kill a dude over an $800 crapmobile? Besides, guns? It ain't our style.

    Veronica: So, what is your style?

    Arturo: Nail board on the road. Target hits it. Tire goes flat. Pulls over. And just as the dude finishes changing the tire, we roll up. Your average white dude in a BMW gets all jumpy when he's surrounded by brown people on bikes. They usually give up the keys without us asking.

  • Veronica: Howdy, sheriff. A kitten get stuck up in a tree?

    Lamb: Not now, Veronica.

  • Dick: Guess what, dude. I'm married!

    Logan: Get back here, man.

    Dick: Dude, where's the love? I'm on my honeymoon. God.

  • Logan: Where are you going?

    Heather: Oh, a guy I was chatting with online wants to meet me, so he's gonna pick me up out front and then take me to Zip's for ice cream.

    Logan: Yeah, you're not going anywhere.

    Heather: Uh, yeah, I am.

    Logan: No, you're not.

    Heather: You can't make me stay here.

    Logan: Heather—

    Heather: Like I'd really go meet a guy that I met online.

    Logan: Nicely played.

    Heather: So, who was that on the phone?

    Logan: Oh, just your brother-in-law.

  • Josh: I told the sheriff. He didn't care. No one believes me. You believe me, don't you?

    Veronica: At Mars Investigations, believing our clients is just one of the many services we offer. Is there anything I can get you?

    Josh: I don't know. Something to read, cookies, peanut butter if possible, a hacksaw.

    Veronica: I can do reading materials, but the sheriff personally inspects all the food, and it rarely makes it back to the intended inmate.

  • Heather: Come here! You have to listen to this. I called KRAC like 200 times. I kept getting this recording, and then finally, I got through. They're gonna play my request.

    Logan: Uh, local calls are two dollars each. ...I'm teasing.

  • DJ: I've got a dedication going out from a very sad boy To a very special girl. So, if you're out there and you're listening, Veronica, this is from Logan. He's sorry, girl, and he wants you back.

    Jeff: Take it from the guy who has to clean up after him. You don't want what's left of Logan Echolls. He just lies around in bed all day and smells.

  • Jeff: Getting in?

    Veronica: Hi.

    Logan: Hey.

    Veronica: Is that my shirt?

    Logan: Yeah, she was out of clothes.

    Veronica: Oh.

    Heather: It's her. It's her!

    Logan: Yeah.

    Heather: It's her, isn't it? Oh, my God! Tell her!

    Logan: Shh.

    Heather: Tell her how you feel.

    Logan: Shut up.

    Heather: Excuse me, Miss Veronica? Yeah, were you listening to super hits 98? 'Cause there was just this dedication.

    Veronica: Yeah, I, um, heard it.

    Heather: Well, it's true. Logan's sorry, and he misses you. And he wants you back. And you two should get back together because he totally loves—

    Logan: This is our floor.

    Jeff: Trouble in paradise?

  • Heather: I can't believe you blew that. That was the most perfect opportunity. Why didn't you tell her how you feel?

    Logan: Because I'm not eleven, and I'm not delusional. You don't know a single thing about love, Heather. You know, it isn't writing someone's name o-on the back of your notebook and drawing a heart around it. It is easy to be happy all the time when you're eleven. You talk to me about love when you know something about it.

  • Veronica: Dad...look at this. I guess Dr. Landry asked Dean O'Dell to write me a recommendation letter for the internship at the FBI.

    Keith: "Dear Sir, in my twenty-five years working in academia, I have not come across a young person with more initiative, intelligence, and character than Veronica Mars. I enthusiastically recommend her and would be happy to discuss this remarkable young woman in greater detail. Sincerely, Cyrus O'Dell, Dean of Students, Hearst College."

    Veronica: I would have settled for, "I find her nosiness charming."

    Keith: Man had good taste. Let's honor him by putting his killer behind bars.

    Veronica: Agreed.

  • Dick: Hey, buddy. Got a question for you. You know a good lawyer?

    Logan: I know a lawyer.

    Dick: Good. I'm gonna need one.

  • Logan: You know, you can play Mario Kart online. We should have a weekly game or something, keep you sharp.

    Heather: Quit flirting with me, old man. I'm eleven. Jeez. That's creepy.

  • Melinda: You called me a freak!

    Dick: I called your toes freakish. I didn't call you a freak. It's supposed to go big toe, little toe, and then on down the line, not big toe, bigger toe.

    Melinda: You really make me sick.

    Dick: I make you sick? You're the freak.

    Logan: Ahh, newlyweds.


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