Mr. Gold: Belle! Are you all right?
Belle: Oh, yeah, I'm just dandy. Especially on account of being completely done with this bullshit.
Mr. Gold: Sorry?
Belle: You lock me in a dungeon. Regina tricks me and locks me in a jail cell for a good ten years, then a mental asylum for another twenty-eight. My own father chains me to a minecart headed for Amnesia Village, residency-- two. I'm seriously not digging this Belle-is-constantly-kidnapped-and/or-the-victim trend.
Mr. Gold:
Belle: Now, if anyone needs me, I'll be off enjoying some non-captivity for a change. I might even get a solid fifteen minutes in this time.