Jake: Why do we have to dress up for Thanksgiving? I don't even celebrate that stuff. The whole holiday is based on over-eating. We should be wearing velvet track suits and diapers.

Rosa: Come on, Peralta! Holt said to use the whole team. We all want this solved.
Jake: I appreciate the offer, but I work best alone. Except when it comes to sex. Actually, sometimes including sex.

Jake: I wasn't hurt that badly. The doctor said all my bleeding was internal. That's where the blood's supposed to be.

Jake: I guess that's your new best friend now, Santiago. Emphasis on "Iago," backstabber.
Amy: I'm surprised you've read Othello.
Jake: What the hell's Othello? I'm calling you the parrot from Aladdin.

Amy: Hitchcock, why do you have your shirt off?
Hitchcock: Can't spill food on your shirt if you're not wearing one.

Jake: Excuse me. Uh, so earlier at Amy's, I didn't give a real toast because I didn't know what to say. But since that time, a wise unsmiling man named Jerald Jimes made me realize what I am thankful for. So, I'd just like to say I am happy to be here with my family. My super weird family with two black dads, and two Latina daughters, and two white sons, and ... Gina. And I don't know what you (Scully) are. Some strange giant baby? To the Nine-Nine!

Amy: Rosa is even wearing her formal leather jacket.
Rosa: It's the one without any blood on it.