Madeline Wuntch: [on video] Hello, Raymond. Surprised to see me?
Captain Holt: Well, I didn't say Bloody Mary three times, so yes.
Amy: When did she record this?
Rosa: Judging by the flames around her, it could be a livestream.
Captain Holt: [laughs] Very good, Rosa. [laughs]
Madeline Wuntch: I'm sure you consider my untimely death a victory, but I'd never let you win. I told everyone that in my final days, we reconciled and you insisted on hosting and organizing my NYPD memorial service. I know you won't be able to resist badmouthing me at the service. All the top brass will be there, and when you speak ill of me, it will end your career. It's over. I won. Bye, Raymond.

John Kelly: Oh, come on, Madeline. There's no need to gloat. Though, it does feel good. Gloaty, gloat, gloat.
Captain Holt: I knew I never should have trusted you.
Madeline Wuntch: Yes, obviously not, you dum-dum. John, you're gonna wanna remember this. Why don't you snap a photo of him?
John Kelly: Oh, yeah. Yeah.
Madeline Wuntch: Why don't you get in there with him?
John Kelly: Oh, why the heck not? My kids just got me a digital picture frame.
Madeline Wuntch: All right, everybody say, "Nine-Nine."
John Kelly: Nine-Nine.
Madeline Wuntch: Mm. Raymond, I love the scowl, but could you slump your shoulders a bit more? Remember you're a man who just lost everything.

Jake: And this is rock bottom.
[On the other side of the two-way mirror:]
Madeline Wuntch: Oh, Raymond. This is sad. He's the one you think of like a son, right? Or are you closer to Santiago? Not that it matters. They're both equally going to prison.

Captain Holt: How do we get close enough without attracting attention?
Madeline Wuntch: Could dance. You must know some moves. You were mentioned by name in the "Monster Mash."

Madeline Wuntch: What the hell, Raymond? You were following me?
Captain Holt: I don't know what you're talking about. I've been here the whole time.
Madeline Wuntch: My mistake. These two goons were carrying a dirty old mop that looked exactly like you.

The Vulture: You were working a case. I freaking knew it. You're a liar.
Madeline Wuntch: And you. You can't do anything except disobey orders and screw up.
Bob: I'm disappointed, too.
Madeline Wuntch: No one cares, Bob.

Captain Holt: I know you've been working on picking a name for the pigeon mascot for, whoo, several months now. I feel like you might need a breather. So, I've prepared an eight-point presentation on community engagement.
Madeline Wuntch: We'll get to your presentation, Raymond. It's on the agenda.
Captain Holt: It says here it's scheduled, quote, after everyone leaves, unquote.
Madeline Wuntch: And not a minute sooner.

Madeline Wuntch: I'd like to hear Captain Holt's thoughts on a name.
Captain Holt: Very well. My thoughts are, who cares?
Madeline Wuntch: Give us a name, Raymond. Weigh on this. It's your job now.
Captain Holt: No.
Madeline Wuntch: A name. Petey or Paulie. Which is it?
Captain Holt: What does it matter? Why'd you even choose a pigeon any way? It's a terrible mascot.
Madeline Wuntch: Because they're a staple of New York. They're non-threatening and they're everywhere.
Captain Holt: They're carriers of disease, and they eat garbage.
Madeline Wuntch: Name the pigeon, Raymond!
Captain Holt: You can't make me.
Madeline Wuntch: I can make you and I will. Name the pigeon. That's an order!
Captain Holt: Paulie.

Madeline Wuntch: I like what you've done with your office, Raymond. It's cozy. Like a shoebox one buries a dead hamster in.

Captain Holt: Wuntch.
Madeline Wuntch: Hello, Raymond. You're looking old and sickly.

Captain Holt: Madeline, thank you for coming.
Madeline Wuntch: Raymond, always a pleasure to call on a vanquished foe. I feel like Jackie Joyner-Kersee congratulating one of the other, slower runners.

Captain Holt: You didn't want me to fail. You wanted me to succeed.
Madeline Wuntch: That's right. I was looking for an excuse to promote you to a desk job and you handed it to me on a silver platter with your little rat hands.
Captain Holt: Oh, no.
Madeline Wuntch: Say goodbye to the Nine-Nine, Raymond. I'm making you Head of NYPD Public Relations.

Madeline Wuntch: For meritorious service, the NYPD bestows this award on detectives Rosa Diaz, Jake Peralta, and Captain... Raymond Holt. Raymond.
Captain Holt: Madeline.
Madeline Wuntch: You won. Go ahead and gloat, you toad.

Madeline Wuntch: Very visual. When, oh when, will you quit police work and pursue your dream of poetry?

Madeline Wuntch: Oh, Raymond. An Internal Affairs investigation? A drug task force that hasn't found any drugs? This precinct's a disaster. Maybe that's why the birds stopped singing. Out of respect for the death of your career. Good-bye, Raymond.