Scully: Thanks for coming out to Hitchcock's divorce party.
Rosa: You know you got another gay cake, right?
Scully: What? No way.
Rosa: It says "Boys! Boys! Boys!" on it.
Scully: Because we're the boys.

Jake: Hitchcock, can you top it?
Hitchcock: Mine has mother's hospital bed.
Amy: Okay, Scully?
Scully: I got this one red door I've never been able to open and I hear screams behind it sometimes. But it's probably just the wind.
Jake: Okay, that's actually too scary.

Amy: Oh, so your plan is to not take this seriously at all?
Jake: Oh, I am as serious as a heart attack. No offense, Scully.
Scully: Nah. Mine are never that serious. I call 'em "oopsies".

Hitchcock: All that investigating was exhausting. Besides, we did our share of that in the seventies and eighties. Now, we like to do paperwork in our comfy chairs.
Scully: If we're away from our desks for too long, they'll update our computers and we'll lose Minesweeper.

Captain Holt: [sighs] I'm off to walk my beat again, much like Sisyphus, condemned to push the same boulder up the same hill day in and day out.
Sergeant Jeffords: You know, according to French Philosopher Albert Camus, Sisyphus achieved happiness in that absurd repetition.
Captain Holt: Any French philosophy post-Rousseau is essentially a magazine. You rube.

Sergeant Jeffords: Well, think of it this way: It's like doing reps at a gym. Doing something over and over again is how you make your pecs pop.
Captain Holt: The only muscle I care to work out is my brain.
Sergeant Jeffords: Then get those reps in and make that brain pop. Pop, pop. Pop, pop, pop.
Captain Holt: What you're describing is an aneurism.
Sergeant Jeffords: Pop, pop. Pop, pop, pop.

Captain Holt: Thank you for seeing me. I just wanted to let you know I was wrong. Until last night, I didn't realize how much Russian I'd learned.
Sergeant Jeffords: Yeah, it was impressive. And your accent was great, too.
Captain Holt: Thank you, but I actually speak with the accent of a peasant.