Jenna: My problem? NBC News has the problem.
Jack: Oh, I don't think that's right.
Jenna: And you know what? I'm going to make my own obituary and show them how wrong they are.
Jack: Then I'm afraid you're on your own, Jenna. You have failed the test of intelligence.
Jenna: Oh really? Well so are you!
Add Some Skinny Jeans, and You Have My Generation
Avery: Is it really that difficult to find someone new to mentor?
Jack: It's impossible. I would never say this to her face, but Lemon is above average. She's got just the right amount of DIHC for me. [Avery's eyes bug out.]
Jack: I hear it, and I don't care! I've cast a wide net, but even the junior executives here... There's something wrong with this generation.
Junior Executive [walks in with floppy hair and eyes glued to his Blackberry]: Hey, Jack! Sorry I'm late. B-t-dubs, I gotta leave for my ironic kickball league in about 10. Also, I'm not interested in this position unless I'm gonna be constantly praised. And I won't cut my hair.
That About Sums It Up
Lemon [to Jack]: You wanted to see me?
Jack: Uh, no, Lemon.
Avery [from the shadows]: I did.
Lemon [spins around startled]: Albino ninja!
Avery: Look, I never should have interfered with, um... whatever this is.
Lemon: Work husband-slash-uncle.
Jack: Coworker-slash-little brother.
Avery: Right, well, she's not ready to move on.
Lemon: It's true. I'm wearing a Duane Reade bag as underwear today.
Avery: All right, and for whatever reason he needs you, too.
Jack: It's a symbiotic relationship. I'm a great white shark, Lemon, and you are a remora, clinging to me with your suction cup head. I give you a free ride and, in exchange, you eat my parasites.
Avery: I'm going to leave you two alone.