Sergeant Jeffords: Hello? Anyone? We're stuck in the elevator!
Captain Holt: Can't you yell any louder? Use those big strong lungs you're always flexing.
Sergeant Jeffords: These are my pecs.
Captain Holt: So this is all just for show then. It has no functional purpose.
Sergeant Jeffords: I mean, I am pretty strong.
Captain Holt: Good, then rip those doors open.
Sergeant Jeffords: I can't do that.
Captain Holt: Oh, well at least you haven't dedicated a significant portion of your life to looking like this.

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.

Captain Holt: I wish he would turn the radio down.
Jake: You think that's the radio? That sounds like professional music to you?
Captain Holt: All music after Mahler sounds exactly like that.

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.

Charles: I can't see anything.
Jake: Me neither. We'll just have to rely on our other senses.
Charles: I call smell.
Jake: Okay, really jumped on that one. I wasn't gonna fight you for smell. I figured we'd just listen for sounds.
Charles: Pfft, good luck with that. [sniffs] Hmm. [sniffs] Yeah. [sniffs] Mm-hmm.
Jake: Okay.
Charles: How's it going over there? You hearing anything?
Jake: Yeah, I'm hearing you and your creepy sniffs.
Charles: Really? Well I'm smelling a lot of jealousy coming from your direction.
Jake: Sound to the left.
Charles: Smell to the left. [crashing sound]
Jake: NYPD, hands up.
Charles: [sniffs] Oh, yeah. We got him!
Jake: Charles.

Scully: Guys, stop wasting time. Headlamps on!
Hitchcock: We have to engage in blackout protocol.
Jake: I'm surprised, those guys are really springing into action. Nope, they're just eating all the food in the fridge before it goes bad.
Hitchcock: There's a dozen sandwiches here, I don't know what kind.
Scully: I'll figure it out later. Just start chewing.
Jake: Yeah, they suck.

Amy: All right, as the highest ranking officer not trapped in a box, I'll take charge.
Charles: Uh, shouldn't you be taking it easy? Your shift's over. You're on maternity leave. As the baby's Chee-Chee...
Amy: Charles, I'm fine, and this is an emergency. Subways aren't running, and we're gonna have a lot of people on the street. So I'm gonna call Mounted Division to help with crowd control.
Charles: But that's Sergeant Peanut Butter's unit. No one wants to work with that condescending dick.
Amy: Okay, first of all, he's a horse, so he can't be condescending.
Charles: Ugh, oh-ho, he's got you people fooled.
Amy: Secondly... He's a lieutenant now.
Charles: What?! How?!