Robin Scherbatsky: You stole the blue French horn for me.Ted: I would have stolen you a whole orchestra.
Ted Mosby: Hey, Barney. I got a little poem for you. You want to hear it?Barney Stinson: No, not really.Ted Mosby: T'was the night before, I had hours to kill. I sat in the tavern, grading parchments with quill.Barney Stinson: With quill?Ted Mosby: Barney. It's a poem.Ted Mosby: A busty, young lassie flashed me a grin.Her garb said "classy," but her eyes whispered "sin." She said, "you're a teacher?" I said, "yes, indeed." "I must have you," she moaned. "I'm turned on by tweed." With haste we did scamper To my chamber anon. We fell to the couch, and, bro, it was on. I unlaced her bodice. Our passions grew deeper. And thus ends the tale of the sexless innkeeper.
Ted Mosby: As you can see, I do just fine on my own. I don't need a baby-sitter.Barney Stinson: See. All this time, I thought you need a wingman to fly, but the truth is you... you've got your own wings now.Ted Mosby: Hmm.Barney Stinson: Since you and Robin split, you've been gestating. Growing in your cocoon. And last night... you burst out of that cocoon... , like a majestic, uh... gosh, what is it that comes out of a cocoon? I was always bad at science.Lily Aldrin: He's gonna say it.Ted Mosby: A butterfly?Ted Mosby: What?Barney Stinson: Nothing, buddy.Ted Mosby: Ow! Why did that hurt so...? Oh my God!Ted Mosby: I have a tattoo!Barney Stinson: Oh, that's not a tattoo. That, dear boy, is a tramp stamp.
Cray-cray gotta go bye-bye before you get stab-stabbed.