Amy: Okay, look. Why don't you get a few options together and then I'll decide, okay? At least Terry's not here to try to make me get a yogurt machine.
Sergeant Jeffords: What was that about yogurt?

Captain Holt: The DA's office called. Greene is furious. He thinks he may have to drop all charges in the Dekalb case. Whoever did this is facing a massive suspension, and there's no use hiding because Dillman will smoke you out.
Sergeant Jeffords: Right, but is there any way he could hurry it up? So far it's just been a lot of silent pacing.
Captain Holt: Would you ask a heart surgeon to hurry it up?
Sergeant Jeffords: I mean, I would if he was just walking around a room.

Captain Holt: Hello. [laughs] You caught me stretching. I've been doing this and nothing else for the last half hour continuously.
Charles: I saw you watching Terry. You were finger conducting.
Captain Holt: Fine. Yes. I may have overstated my contempt for the music they play so that I wouldn't have to help Jeffords.
Sergeant Jeffords: Oh, no, am I so bad, I can't be helped? Aw, man, I wanted to play in the Thanksgiving Day Parade. Terry loves being in and among floats.

Charles: I cleaned up as much as I could, but I think that couch is gonna smell like bone broth for a while. So did you talk to your friend? Any chance he'll reconsider investing?
Sergeant Jeffords: Yeah, that's not happening. He said that was the most scared he's ever been, and he was on that plane that landed on the Hudson.

Sergeant Jeffords: I went to my barbershop to get a quick cleanup, and Boyle was there.
Charles: Yeah, got a low-drop fade with a crisp lining. I'm all about supporting Black businesses.
Sergeant Jeffords: Right.
Charles: Oh, are you upset about something, Lieutenant?
Sergeant Jeffords: It's just that the barbershop is my therapy.
Charles: Mm.
Sergeant Jeffords: It's where I go to clear my mind. And that's hard to do with you there.
Charles: Mm.
Sergeant Jeffords: Stop mm-ing me!
Charles: It's my listening noise.
Sergeant Jeffords: Listening doesn't require noise!

Amy: Look, Holt just needs us to be there for him. Help him take his mind off of Kevin.
Sergeant Jeffords: He's always inviting us to his lake house to go bird watching, but we never do it because it's, you know, birdwatching. We could finally go.
Amy: He would love that.
Jake: Wow, stabbed in the back by my own mom.
Amy: What?
Jake: Wife! I said wife! Why do you keep not hearing me? Whatever! Let's just do Terry's plan.

Sergeant Jeffords: Sorry that took me so long. I cramped up halfway and then crawled for a little while. Maybe I should think about slimming down.
Jake: No, it's actually good you didn't make it back.
Sergeant Jeffords: Oh, thank you for saying that. Look, I can't change my body, it defines me.

Jake: How's it going, sir? You look chipper.
Captain Holt: Yes, well, I called Kevin and told him I still have feelings for him, and he said he felt the same. So we begin couples counseling next week.
Sergeant Jeffords: That's great, sir. I'm so glad. Looks like Captain Holt caught a fatty trout in his gill net.
Jake: You watched Alone?
Sergeant Jeffords: Every single episode. Terry has not slept!

Amy: Prong two update... I brought in our night-shift detectives to handle the dispatch calls and respond to major crimes...
Sergeant Jeffords: [stomach gurgling] Sorry. That's Terry's tummy. I'm feeling a little nauseous. Must've been something I had for breakfast.
Captain Holt: Well, do you have to go home, or can you tough it out?
Sergeant Jeffords: So, if Terry goes home, he's not tough?
Amy: Here we go.
Captain Holt: Lieutenant, we don't have the time today to make this about some larger insecurity you have regarding your toughness.
Sergeant Jeffords: First of all, I'm not insecure about my toughness. Secondly, being sick has nothing to do with being tough. Thirdly, if I wasn't tough, would I be daring Amy to punch me in the stomach?
Amy: Wha...
Sergeant Jeffords: Come on, Amy! Give me your best shot!
Amy: Fine. Just so that we can move on. [punches Terry's stomach]
Sergeant Jeffords: [grunts] [stomach gurgling] See? I'm fine. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go for a walk in the fresh air with my best friend, the trash can. I'll be back 'cause I'm tough!

Sergeant Jeffords: Sir, guess what.
Captain Holt: Lieutenant, I thought you went home.
Sergeant Jeffords: I did, but some uniforms heard that I called out sick, and they assumed I was joining the Blue Flu. They invited me to a meeting tomorrow to talk strategy.
Captain Holt: You could go record them admitting that they don't actually have mono. That is, if you're up to it.
Sergeant Jeffords: Hell, yeah. Terry's gonna tough it out. Terry's also gonna drink some raspberry leaf tea that Sharon uses to help her with menstrual cramps.

Sergeant Jeffords: Anyway, uh, here's who you're up against.
Amy: Alan Peters. Dud. Mike Lynch. Dud. Tad Green. Dud! [gasps] Austin Grant.
Sergeant Jeffords: Who's Austin Grant? Not a dud?
Amy: Oh, he's a dud, but he's a hot dud. He's a "hud." He gets everything handed to him because he looks so good in a uniform. Ugh, and he's pitching predictive algorithmic policing. That's just high-tech racial profiling.
Sergeant Jeffords: Okay, look, if this guy is style over substance, we just need to give you some style. Check this out. [video plays] Tiny Terry won the Little Mister Michigan pageant.
Amy: You just happen to have a video of yourself as a seven-year-old on your phone?
Sergeant Jeffords: Big Terry's proud of Tiny Terry. Look, the point is, I can help you.

Sergeant Jeffords: That's funny... same thing happened to Alex Nelson at Little Mister Michigan. What? Tiny Terry did what he had to do.

Scully: Boyle, where's my candy?
Charles: What?
Scully: The box is full of sand. Or maybe it's sugar. [spits] Oh, it's not sugar. It's sand. Is this some sort of sick joke?
Charles: There was candy in there earlier. Maybe it fell out?
Scully: I don't want excuses, bitch! I want my candy! The vending machine is broken, and you're my only snack source.
Sergeant Jeffords: He doesn't have to be. I still have your purchase order.
Charles: You. You did this.
Sergeant Jeffords: Please, I would never do something that childish, and you would know that if you weren't a big, stinky dumb-dumb who smelled like butts.

Sergeant Jeffords: Sugar. [hums melody] ♪ Oh, Scully, Scully ♪ [hums melody] ♪ You are my candy friend ♪
Charles: Boring! No costume change much?

Charles: Hey, Lieutenant, I think we should talk. How you doing?
[Sergeant Jeffords holds up a legal pad which has "APPLE BROKE MOUTH" written on it]
Charles: Oh, no, I'm so sorry. Sir, I want to apologize.
Sergeant Jeffords: [muffled speech]
Charles: Okay, I have no idea what you're saying. Look, I know the union set us up, but we let it happen. Your friendship means the world to me, and I would hate for it to be destroyed by a competition to sell more candy.
Sergeant Jeffords: Me too.
Hitchcock: [on video call] You guys are selling candy? There's nothing good here. Could one of you ship to Brazil? [both chuckling]
[Sergeant Jeffords jumps from his chair, throws a drink over Charles' crotch, and then grabs the iPad]
Charles: Oh! You sneaky son of a bitch!