General Hospital: Perkie's Observations

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Ok, so let me see if I can have some fun with this mess:

Anthony (to comatose Claudia): Yes, I know I’m a major villain who kills people for sport and I’ve been threatening to kill you since you were born with ovaries, but let me just stand here for hours on end, explaining to you how and why I’m going to kill you. Let me stand here with the door open, explaining in a rather loud voice how I can walk, how I had Kate shot and how I want Sonny to take out Jason because apparently it hasn’t occurred to me that I can take out Jason and Sonny on my own. Oh Trevor, you caught me. Hey, let’s kill her together.

Kate: Olivia, you have to go into the contaminated room and get my purse.

Olivia: Why?

Kate: I know it would make perfect sense for me to explain my reason to you, which would likely make you want to help me find my purse with the DVD, but instead, I’ll just give you some platitudes and let you think I’m wacky.

Nikolas: I saw Emily again.

Lulu: Yeah, yeah, you’re losing it. But what about me? Me, me, me, Johnny fight, me, me, me. Oh, and, what do you think of this fugly dress I’m wearing? Me, me, me.

Maxie: Apparently we have an endless supply of beer here in this abandoned, yet fully working garage. Hey, we should make out, not because we’re seriously attracted to each other and we’ve been fighting it, but rather, well, just because.

Johnny: Ok.

Epiphany: Uhm, Dr. Drake? I’m pretty sure when you’re doing CPR on someone she shouldn’t be practically sitting up looking prettier ever, while you do whatever you’re hands are doing, on her neck.

Patrick: Damn it nurse, I’m a doctor, not a magician.

Fiance: Hi, somehow I managed to get into a locked building and I don’t know you from a hole in the ground, but Epiphany just showed you a picture of me, therefore you know who I am and can tell me what happened to the greatest nurse that ever nursed. I am so darn lucky that I get to marry this wonderful, special, delightful person and I might be laying it on a little thick right now.

Patrick: Yeah, Layla’s dead.

Sam: Uh, since Patrick lost his tact, as well as his bedside manner and since there isn’t anybody else here who knew and was friends with Layla who could speak to you, why don’t I jump in and lead you away while Patrick looks forlornly on.

Robin: I know I should be worried about your high fever, but I’m more curious about how you could possibly say “mama” three or four times while you were crying off camera, despite being only three months old.