Wash: Well, I wash my hands of it. It's a hopeless case. I'll read a nice poem at the funeral. Something with imagery. Zoe: You could lock the door and keep the power-hungry maniac at bay. Wash: Oh, no, I'm starting to like this poetry idea now. Here lies my beloved Zoe, my autumn flower, somewhat less attractive now she's all corpsified and gross...
'Shindig'
Goodbye and Good Riddance 2003: Kidnap the Sandy Claws, Beat Him with a Stick
Every year we watch the Charlie Brown special, do the Snoopy dance, wish everybody a Merry Christmukkah and thank our Secret Santas in the good riddance thread. Which is this one, in case you were wondering. Oh, and 2003? Don't think we've forgotten about you.