ƒnƒCƒ‰ƒCƒg‚Í"Glad to know she's also mouthy in a good way."

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How I met your mother ƒV[ƒYƒ“6yŒ´‘čzThe Perfect Cocktail

Narator: Kids, when your Uncle Marshall finally quit Goliath National Bank to do something better with his life, he left on great terms with his boss.

Arthur: Good luck, Marshall. And promise you'll list me as a reference.

Narator: Which made Marshall's big interview with a respected environmental organization all the more confusing.

Organization: I'm sorry. I don't think you're the kind of person we're looking for. I just got off the phone with Arthur Hobbs over at GNB.

Arthur: Oh, yeah, I worked with Marshall Eriksen... at least I did when he actually showed up.

Arthur: Marshall! Hey, it's, uh, it's 2:30. If it's no big deal, we'd sure love it if you'd try to get here at least before lunch.

Marshall: Yeah? And I'd sure love to give a rat's ass.

Assistant: Oh! Mr. Eriksen... You're not wearing any pants.

Marshall: Your move.

Assistant: But Marshall, wh... What about the environment?

Marshall: Screw the environment!

Organization: "Screw the environment"?!

Arthur: Oh, yeah. We fired him when we caught him clubbing a seal in his office with an even cuter seal. The guy's a maniac. He's just an awful, flatulent racist.

club a seal ƒAƒUƒ‰ƒV‚đ‚ą‚ń–_‚ʼnŁ‚é

Marshall: Sir, none of that is...

Organization: Sorry. Interview over.

Narator: And so Marshall stormed over to GNB, where he ran into Zoey.

Zoey: If you want to get back at those jerks, I have a proposition for you.

proposition ’ńˆÄ

Barney: Invitations for the demolition of The Arcadian. As head of the project, I get to decide how we knock it down. I'm torn between training an actual coyote to use an ACME dynamite plunger, or hooking up a fuse to Eddie Van Halen's guitar that goes off the second he hits the last note to "Hot For Teacher." Barney! Barney! Bar... No, no. I'm going to go coyote.

Invitation ’ńˆÄ demolition Žć‚č‰ó‚ľ

Robin: Wait. While no one wants to see a, uh, coyote wearing a little hard hat more than me, remember: Zoey's protest could still shut your whole project down.

Barney: Oh, come on. Zoey's not shutting anything down, standing out there with her stupid megaphone, screaming in the wind; butt cheeks trembling with fury; her perky breasts heaving; her self-righteous nipples...

Ted: Dude, that's my girlfriend.

Barney: Point is, we are taking her and The Arcadian down. Am I right, Teddy Westside?

Ted: You know it.

Lily: Okay. See, that's so weird to me. One second you're defending Zoey, and the next, you're talking about her going down.

Barney: Glad to know she's also mouthy in a good way. What up? Dude, that's his girlfriend.

mouthy ş‚‚Č in a good way ‚˘‚˘ˆÓ–Ą‚Ĺ

Lily: Isn't it tough dating the woman that's trying to prevent your building from being built?

prevent ‘j‚Ţ

Ted: At first, yes, but we figured out a great way to deal with it: we never talk about it. And since then, we've really been enjoying each other's company.

Lily: So, every time The Arcadian comes up, you guys just awkwardly change the subject?

awkwardly •sŽŠ‘R‚É

Ted: Yeah, but you'd be surprised. It doesn't even come up that often.

Zoey: Hey, guys.

All: Hey!

Zoey: Meet the new lawyer I hired to help save The Arcadian.

Ted: So Oprah's retiring. Oof! What's that world gonna be like?

Robin: Wait, Marshall's helping you save The Arcadian, now.

Zoey: Yeah. Having a former GNB employee on our side is huge for us. GNB is going down.

Marshall: Yeah, totally.

Ted: So, they found water on Mars. What?

Marshall: Listen, um, I hate to go up against my two best friends, but... I really, I really need this right now. I mean, we're, we're cool, right?

Barney: Not only do you quit the job I stuck my neck out to get you, now you sabotage the project I'm in charge of? Is this because I brushed Lily's boob with my elbow, the other day?

in charge of ’S“–

Lily: That was on purpose!

Barney: I mean this is really like...

Marshall: Barney, please...

Narator: And thus began an all-out war between Barney and Marshall...

all-out war ‘S–Ęí‘ˆ

Guy: Delivery from Mr. Stinson.

Zoey: Barney sent us pictures of himself. Oh, God. What's he doing to that megaphone?!

Marshall: Oh!

Barney: Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!

Narator: Later, back at the bar... another war was just beginning.

Lily: Babe, can I get you a drink?

Marshall: No, I'm still not... ready to put my mouth on anything yet.

Lily: I know.

Marshall: You know what? Screw this. Game on.

Lily: Can you believe this one? Wants our booth. Keeps giving us the walk-by.

Robin: That bitch is not giving us the walk-by.

Lily: The walk-by with the stink eye.

stink eye áɂŢ

Robin: A stink-eye-walk-by?! Aw, hell no! I hope this drink isn't teething, 'cause it's about to get nursed.

nurse ƒ`ƒrƒ`ƒrˆů‚Ţ

Marshall: Barney! Your wife just called from the hospital! It's a boy!

Barney: No. I' was... I was...

Narator: This went on for days.

Marshall: Congratulations. You're about to be the 250th girl that Barney has slept with.

Barney: Pfff. Try 283. 250 was months ago. No, no, no. No, I mean, you're totally 250, baby. No, don't.

Marshall: Oh, bye-bye.

Marshall: Mr. Stinson... I had to rush down as soon as I got your results. I'm sorry, but your crabs have super-herpes.

crabs –Ń‚ś‚ç‚Ý

Lily: Oh, boy. Look who's back.

Robin: Look, Lily, I think this girl wants our seats. Should we leave... or stay here Lionel Richie style "All Night Long"?

Lily: Excuse me waitress, I'll have a mojito! And you'll have a no-seat-ho.

Marshall: Ah, yes... the sweet, smoky taste of victory.

Barney: Are you sure it doesn't taste like anything else?

Marshall: That's it!

Barney: Kent! Kent!

Marshall: Oh, God! Ow... Why would you do that to your own jacket?!

Barney: That's what you get, you traitor!

traitor — ŘŽŇ

Marshall: Oh, really? Really?

Barney: Yeah. Really.

Marshall: Really. That... what...

Carl: Okay, enough! You guys are out of here.

Robin: Ejected!

Carl: I meant all of you. You're all banned from the bar. Out!

Robin: Carl! Oh... This has nothing to do with us. You're totally ridiculous. Don't look, baby. Just don't look. Come on.

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