Jake: So, this apartment will be our base for the duration of the mission. Thank you to The Vulture for procuring it.
The Vulture: Hey, don't thank me. Thank my boy, Billy. He said the place was mine while he's still in prison.
Jake: What?
The Vulture: That's not what it sounds like. His only crime was planning a kickass music festival.
Jake: Are you friends with the Fyre Festival guy?
The Vulture: Best friends. He got a bum rap. You can learn about it when my documentary comes out. It points all the blame where it clearly belongs with the island people.
Jake: Wow, so many levels of terrible there.

The Vulture: Hello, Peralta.
Jake: No, no, no!
The Vulture: I don't know why you're so upset, man. I'm the one who had to come to this backwater stink hole. [to Charles] What's up, little man?
Charles: What's up?
The Vulture: Feeling sexy? Huh?
Charles: Yeah, I feel sexy.
The Vulture: Yeah, you look sexy, man.
Charles: You know I do.
The Vulture: Watch out for that door. [to Sergeant Jeffords] Yo, how much you bench, seriously?

Rosa: Hey, Pembroke. What do you say we go talk about a case in the break room?
The Vulture: Oh, yeah? What case is that?
Rosa: The case of how you got so damn sexy.
The Vulture: God owed me a favor. Case solved.

Amy: So no passed hors d'oeuvres?
The Vulture: I can't even answer that.
All right, tough guy. What do you got planned?
Rosa: I don't know. Meet at a bar and ... drink there.
The Vulture: That's it? Well, it's still better than Santiago's.
Look, this is real important to me, all right? My brother's hot wife is gonna be there, and I haven't seen her since his funeral.
Amy: Wow.
The Vulture: Yeah, right? I mean, you only get one shot at your brother's widow.

Amy: Well, I was thinking a DJ, two signature cocktails, passed hors d'oeuvres-
The Vulture: Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Passed hors d'oeuvres? What is this, a fundraiser for French dorks?

The Vulture: It's because I got a bet going with the captain of the A4 to see whose squad can solve the most cases.
Winner gets to choose a tattoo for the loser, and guess what I'm getting him.
Jake: Calvin peeing on the Tasmanian Devil?
The Vulture: No, it's supposed to be a bad tattoo. Man, you're really stupid in the morning, aren't you?

The Vulture: All right, sluggers. Let's see what you got for the big b-day bash.
Amy: I thought you wanted us to surprise you.
The Vulture: It's a figure of speech, Detective Stupid-ago.

The Vulture: I mean, what was it with Diaz's last "impossible" extortion case? What was it? Six hours?
Rosa: That's because it was 98% solved.
The Vulture: The last 2%'s the hardest to get. That's why they leave it in the milk.
Jake: What?

The Vulture: Whasup, ding dongs? I'm your new captain.
Jake: The Vulture.
Amy: Oh, this is bad.
Charles: No.
Rosa: Still hot.
The Vulture: I know we have our history. Me vulturing your cases. Me telling you to eat my farts. But that's all in the past. Because now that I run this precinct, things are going to get much, much worse. So suck it.
Jake: No!

Jake: Captain, we all want you to win that bet, but do you think maybe we could keep a few real cases?
The Vulture: Look, I'm gonna keep it real simple for you. We only solve misdemeanors, wieners. Say it.

The Vulture: Thanks, champ. Good effort. I got it from here. And, hey, you feel free to call me anytime you need me to come down here and help powder that big white ass of yours.

Amy: [as The Vulture shows off his underwear band] The Vladimir Putin collection?
The Vulture: Yeah, 70 bucks a pair. And they only increase in value.

Jake: They have my hair? I thought you put your two worst guys on this.
The Vulture: These are my worst guys, all right? They're real dorks. They both wear glasses. And one of them's even a woman.
Jake: Ugh. You said you didn't trust them to get coffee.
The Vulture: Look, if you can't tell what "coffee" is code for by now, then you and I shouldn't be talking about this, Jake.
Amy: Oh, my God. He put his best detectives on the case.
The Vulture: Hey, my two best detectives are Sticky and Boner, and they definitely know how to order "coffee." Extra cream. Wink, wink.

The Vulture: Congratulations. You just called yourself wieners. Dismissed.

The Vulture: Was that the sound of a juicy file I heard plopping down on Peralta's desk? Yeah, it was. You just lost your overtime privileges for the month. Everybody, listen up. Anyone caught working on a case that I didn't assign loses their overtime. Capooch?