Bachelor Party Doyle: She's not going to fall for my ample but unpretentious charms, is she? Angel: Not unless "unpretentious" means you don't like to brag about your family's old money. Doyle: The only money in my family is underneath the couch cushions. Cordy: You were so... brave. Doyle: You think you could say that again without so much shock in your voice? You're steppin' on my moment of manliness here. Cordy: I'm just... Doyle: Surprised? Cordy: Grateful. Cordy: So here I am at Le Petit Renard with Mr. Armani, who could keep me in blue boxes for the rest of my life... Angel: Blue boxes? Cordy: Tiffany's! God! Cordy: All I can think of is if this wimp saw a monster, he'd probably throw a shoe at it and run like a weasel. Turns out the shoe part was giving him too much credit. Cordy: All of a sudden rich and handsome isn't enough for me. Now I expect a guy to be all brave and interesting. And it's your fault! Both of you! Cordy: As if I wasn't confused enough, then Doyle comes along and rescues me like some... badly dressed super hero. You know, the first thing he asked? "Are you okay". I mean, that's like... substance, right? Angel: There's definitely more to Doyle than meets the eye. Cordy: So I've got to kill myself. I swore when I went down this road with Xander Harris, I'd rather be dead than date a fixer-upper again. Cordy: Maybe Doyle does have hidden depths. I mean, really really hidden. But depths. And I'm gonna have to buy him a mochaccino for saving my life. Doyle: "I'm the one you followed. It's me you want." Ha! Fangs for the memories, vamp man. Cordy: I was thinking that maybe I haven't been entirely fair to you. Maybe you don't actually have zero potential. Doyle: Wow, Cordelia. Thanks. Richard: You left out the part about him being such a handsome fellow. Angel: I'm not... Richard: Oh, you are. Really. Angel: I'm not Doyle. He is. Richard: Oh, that's more like it. Harriet: I'm definitely the yin to his yang, but it works. He's got a good heart, Francis, just like you. Doyle: Yeah, maybe. But the container -- can I get a side of bland to go with that bland? Doyle: When things go wrong and you're young like that, you don't just say "Hey, thanks fore the blender. I wish you well." You fight. You tear each other apart until one of you can't take it. Doyle: He seems like a nice... friendly... fellow, don't you think? Angel: Definitely friendly. Only, uh, he seemed a bit... Doyle: Exactly! I knew he was no good! Doyle: I can't go trailing after her intended myself. It just wouldn't look right. Angel, you think you would... Angel: Yeah. Just don't tell Cordelia. She'll want to charge you. Doyle: He's a demon? And she's all signed on to be Mrs. Demon? Tell me again how ugly he is. Doyle: I knew that nice guy thing was just an act. He's working a spell on her. She's gonna sprout hubcaps from her head or something. Angel: They gave up those orthodox teachings, language, around the turn of the century. Now they own a number of restaurants with pretty expensive windows. Doyle: I fully intend to chip in for that. Harriet: Richard wanted some time alone with Doyle to invite him to his bachelor party. Cordy: Bachelor party? Why? Was he afraid he ordered too much beer? Uncle John: Let's see. First we greet the man of the hour. Then we drink. Bring out the food. Then drink. Then comes the stripper. Darts. And then we have the ritual eating of the first husband's brains. Then charades. Brother: Wait. What was that? Charades? Richard: Angel! Hey, this is a surprise. Angel: Yeah, I thought I'd use the door this time. Richard: Everyone, this night is for Doyle as much as it is for me. More even. He's the real bachelor here. Doyle: Yeah, thanks for not rubbing that in right away. Harriet: It was a nightmare. Well, maybe not at first. Initially, I really liked the way he took charge. Cordy: Doyle? Took charge? Harriet: Sometimes I felt like I was one of his students. Cordy: That's funny. For a moment, I thought you said one of Doyle's students. Harriet: It wasn't fun being treated like a third grader, believe me. Cordy: Grade third taught Doyle?! (beat) Doyle taught third grade?! Harriet: Yeah. Cordy: Are you sure he wasn't just held back and used that as a cover story? Harriet: Francis got his teaching credentials before we even met at the Food Bank. Cordy: Okay, soup kitchen. Now that sounds more like the Doyle I've grown to know and revile. (look) You're about to tell me he ran it, aren't you? Harriet: He was just a volunteer. That's when he got the idea for the whole We Are the World thing. I'm kidding about that part. Aunt: Come on girls. It's pornographic Pictionary time! Harriet: Their ways are not our ways. Harriet: Richard said having the former husband present was some sort of tradition. I was just wondering... Aunt: Well, they're certainly not going to eat your ex-husband's brains... for instance. Uncle John: Nick, what's this? Nick: You said to get a utensil. Uncle John: This is a shrimp fork. He's gonna eat the guy's brains with a shrimp fork? Brother: Well, pardon me if our ancient ancestors didn't leave behind any former husband brain eating forks. Uncle John: Get a soup spoon, you moron. Harriet: Stop it right this instant! Richard: Hun bun? This is for guys only. Harriet: I know what you're up to, Richard Howard Straley. Richard: The stripper wasn't my idea, pook. I swear. Harriet: Not the stripper, Richard! (pause) There was a stripper? Harriet: Were you or were you not intending to eat my ex-husband's brains? Richard: In a way... Harriet: And when were you planning on telling me? Richard: I thought maybe I wouldn't have to. Harriet: You were going to start our life out together with deceit? Doyle: Sort of missing the point, isn't she? Harriet: Oh please, Uncle John. When's the last time you pried yourself away from ESPN to spill the blood of a she-goat? Harriet: One word, Francis. Just one word, and I'll eat your brains. Brother 1: You don't need her anyway. Brother 2: Yeah, who wants a wife whose knees only bend the one way? Cordy: Well, someone has to go out there and cheer him up. (Angel gets up) Cordy: Oh please. Someone with a heart beat. Cordy: Hi Doyle. Are you gonna become loser pining guy, like, full time? 'Cuz we already have one of those around the office. Angel: Hey! Doyle: Hey! Cordy: He can get away with it. He's tall, and look at the way clothes hang on him. But you... Angel: Okay. I think you've cheered us up enough. Cordy: You can't live in the past. You gotta move on. Let it go. Forget it. Tomorrow's another day. Did I mention letting it go? Doyle: Twice. Cordy: You'll get through this, Doyle. Nice guys don't always finish last. Doyle: You think I'm a nice guy? Cordy: I think it; I say it. It's my way.