- Angel: Wes, did you ever hear that the devil built a robot?
- Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: [in awe] El Diablo Robotico.
- [pause]
- Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Why?
- Angel: Nobody ever tells me anything.
- Charles Gunn: Notice no matter how uptown we go we always wind up at some stanky hole in the middle of the night?
- Number Five: Surely you have heard of our great victory over the devil's robot.
- Angel: Sorry.
- Number Five: Nobody remembers the good stuff.
- Number Five: What can I say about a demon who killed the people that mattered most to me?
- Angel: You can start by saying how you killed it back.
- Angel: The reason why I know this Aztec demon is not eating the hearts of heroes is... He didn't take mine. Am I honestly supposed to believe that it had no problem sticking a sword in my stomach but then decided, "Oh wait, his heart's not heroic enough?" Ha! I don't think so.
- Charles Gunn: I understand you're feeling rejected. But this Aztec warrior... it wants the hearts for sustenance. It wants it for the meat, not the metaphor.
- Angel: What are you saying?
- Charles Gunn: As meat goes, your heart's a dried-up hunk of gnarly-ass beef jerky.
- Angel: Yeah, but, stick a piece of wood in it, and I still die.
- Angel: I'm just... I don't know, just feeling a bit...
- Spike: Squishy?
- Angel: Disconnected.
- Angel, Spike: Are you serious? Here you are, finally living a piece of the high life - new clothes, new cars, my old tumble fetching you tasty snacks - and what's your gripe? "I feel disconnected." You want to feel disconnected, try being a bloody ghost for a bit. Try bobbin' around with no touch or taste or smell. Not many fates worse than that, I'd wager.
- [Number 5 walks past with mail cart]
- Angel, Spike: OK, maybe that.
- Angel: So it's eating the hearts of heroes, and their blood is what keeps it alive.
- Winifred "Fred" Burkle: Yeah, but it does more than that. It acts like a kind of supercharged rocket fuel. Makes it, you know...
- Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Nigh invulnerable.
- Spike: Oh, I could kill it. I mean, ghostiness to the contrary. Well, come on, lads. Everything has an Achilles heel.
- Angel: And you just so happen to know this creature's Achilles heel?
- Spike: Well, I wager it's the heart.
- Winifred "Fred" Burkle: [She looks at her computer screen] You see that in the science?
- Spike: No, luv, in the poetry. We're dealing with a mythic creature here, a kill-or-be-killed kind of creature. If I was gonna kill something that was trying to take my heart, I'd try to bloody well take its heart first.
- Number Five: In case you haven't noticed, I have retired from that life.
- Angel: Wearing that mask doesn't exactly hide your past.
- Number Five: It reminds me that only a fool would want to be a champion.
- Angel: Fool? Is that what you think of your brothers?
- Number Five: [Numero Cinco backhands Angel] Never disrespect the memory of my brothers. They were honorable men... luchadores. Mexican wrestlers. The greatest that ever lived. Together we were known as Los Hermanos Numeros.
- Angel: The "Number Brothers"? Huh.
- [Angel picks up a black and white picture of the five brothers together, all with masks numbered 1 through 5]
- Angel: Boy, you guys had no problem getting past the whole irony thing, now, did you?
- Charles Gunn: Still not sure why Blondie Ghost tagged along.
- Spike: Not much choice really, is there? Can't drink, smoke, diddle my willy. Doesn't leave much to do other than watch you blokes stumble around playin' Agatha Christie.
- Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Yeah, remind me again how you ended up in the front seat.
- Spike: Called shotgun, mate.
- Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Oh. I thought we were doing a weapons check.
- Charles Gunn: Nothin' wrong with that. We may need these bad boys if we're goin' up against some Mexican Day of the Dead heart-suckin' monster.
- Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Angel, the church we're looking for is about half a mile...
- [Angel interrupts by pulling a screeching U-Turn]
- Spike: Always was a bit of a drama queen.
- Number Five: You were going to drag me into your quest to find the Aztec warrior.
- Angel: No, I wasn't! I was going to give you some mail!
- Number Five: Oh - sorry.
- Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Remind me again how you ended up in the front seat?
- Spike: I called shotgun.
- Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Oh. I thought we were doing a weapons check.
- Wesley Wyndam-Pryce: Three people found with their hearts cut out in East Los Angeles, all within the last couple of hours. The police are on it, but my sense is it's more demonic than some murderous nut job.
- Spike: So we're ruling out demonic nut jobs, then, are we?
- Spike: Hey Fred, did ya hear? Angel attacked the old mail guy!
- Angel: What?
- Winifred "Fred" Burkle: Not number five! You didn't hurt him?
- Angel: No! I - He attacked me!
- Lorne: Holy tornado, it's true!
- Spike: Yeah, it was amazing! Angel went right off on the mail guy.
- Lorne: Oh this must've been one major smackdown!
- Angel: There was no smacking!
- Lorne: That's not the hubbub I'm hearing, honey buns. Word on the web has you sucker punching Grandpa Moses.
- Angel: The web?
- Lorne: Don't sweat it, sweetie pie. I've got my flack-catcher spinnin' this into PR gold. And once the word spreads that you beat up an innocent old man, well the truly terrible will think twice before goin' toe to toe with our Avenging Angel.
- Spike: Yes. The geriatric community will be soilin' their nappies when they hear you're on the case. Bravo!