Amy: You two start at Bond and we'll rendezvous in the middle, assuming, of course, Boyle and I haven't already caught all the fugitives by the time you two show up.
Jake: Amy, there are nine hardened criminals running free in the streets. This is hardly the time for childish trash talk. It's time for a bet. A crazy-ass bet.
Amy: What are you thinking?
Jake: Whoever catches the most fugitives gets to keep their apartment. Loser moves in with the winner.
Amy: All right. I'm in. I hope you like sleeping in a bed with a thousand pillows.
Jake: Well, I hope you like sharing my one grey towel.
Amy: Was it grey when you bought it?
Jake: I didn't buy it. It was in the apartment when I moved in.
Amy: Are you sure you don't want to just move in with me?
Jake: We already shook on it. The bet stands. Prepare to die, and by "die," I mean move in with me. Here we go.