Captain Holt: Debbie, wait. Change of plans. We're not going back to the precinct.
Officer Debbie Fogle: Are we gonna go rogue and pick up cones?
Captain Holt: Oh, we're going way more rogue than picking up cones. Listen, it's unlikely our shooter had his own hot dog cart where'd he get it from?
Officer Debbie Fogle: Please don't make me help you with this.
Captain Holt: My guess is the food cart garage just two blocks away from our crime scene, or, shall I say, 238 steps.
Officer Debbie Fogle: Don't tempt me with steps.
Captain Holt: This is a defining moment for you. You can either obey orders for the rest of your life and make no impact on the world, or stand up! And solve this case with me.
Officer Debbie Fogle: Is there a third option?
Captain Holt: Nervously tag along.
Officer Debbie Fogle: Great. I choose the nervously tag along option.

Rosa: All you have to do is say a few nice comments during the memorial.
Captain Holt: As God said when Wuntch tried to sneak past the gates into heaven, "It ain't happening, honey."
Rosa: [cackles]

Amy: Maybe we should talk about deets for the case. Plan our next move. Grab some chow.
Captain Holt: No need. I brought these. Nutrition bricks. I have original no flavor, and whole wheat no flavor.

Jake: We have a few more questions for you, doctor.
Captain Holt: Doctor. Huh. It's funny when people call dentists "doctor".
Philip Davidson: We are doctors. We do four years of medical school.
Captain Holt: Yeah, but it's called "dental school".
Philip Davidson: But we learn about the entire body.
Captain Holt: But if you had cancer, you wouldn't call a dentist.
Philip Davidson: You know it's actually harder to get into dental school than medical school.
Captain Holt: Well, because there are fewer dental schools. Because most people want to become actual doctors.
Philip Davidson: That's ridiculous. It's not like we're college professors calling ourselves "doctors".
Captain Holt: Not the same thing, my friend.
Philip Davidson: Well, sure it is. When someone has a heart attack on a plane, do they yell out, "Yo, does anybody here have an Art History PhD?"
Captain Holt: A PhD is a doctorate. It's literally describing a doctor.
Jake: Maybe let's refocus.
Captain Holt: No! The problem here is that medical practitioners have co-opted the word "doctor".
Jake: Okay, Captain-
Captain Holt: I know we live in a world where anything can mean anything, and nobody even cares about etymolo-
[cut to outside, Holt downing a glass of water]
Captain Holt: Apparently that's a trigger for me.
Jake: Yeah, apparently.

Sergeant Jeffords: Peralta, you're in charge of the manhunt for the shooter.
Jake: Oh, my God, it's a manhunt. And I'm the Manhunter.
Charles: And I'm your sidekick, the Boyhunter.
Rosa: Come on, dude.

Amy: My period's late, I think I might be pregnant.
Rosa: Oh, damn.
Amy: I can't be pregnant! Jake and I agreed to wait at least a year until we tried. I haven't found an OB, I'm not on any preschool waiting lists, and I spent all of yesterday in a room with Hitchcock and his new cologne, which can't be good for the baby it is literally called Zika!

Jake: Boyle, gather everyone up.
Charles: Oh, we starting a burn book about Holt? Let's drag him, baby!
Jake: No, someone saw our hoodie guy.
Charles: Right, we'll do the burn book later.
Jake: Attention, everyone, we have a possible sighting of our shooter on Hoyt Street. Detective Boyle and I will take Alpha unit. Smith, Fox-
Charles: You guard the burn book.
Jake: Charles, no.
Charles: Stand down.