Gina: You're trying to get me bumped out of I9 C3 G6. You don't like that the test put us in the same category. That is so rude. Do you know how many basic bitches would kill to have the same personality as me?

Gina: It's Gina's phone. Leave me a voice-mail. I won't check it 'cause it's not 1993.

Gina: Is she crying?
Jake: A little.
Gina: You should be wailing you stone-cold bitch. Now call my other grandma.

Gina: All men are at least 30% attracted to me. My mother cried the day I was born, because she knew she would never be better than me. At any given moment, I'm thinking about one thing: Richard Dreyfuss hunkered over eating dog food. I feel like I'm the Paris of people.

Jake: "Uh-oh, hope it doesn't get too sexual." Title of your sex tape. But seriously, what is taking so long. Also the title of your sex tape.

Captain Holt: Gina, you know I appreciate you, but you have to admit we're not exactly cut from the same cloth.
Gina: Apparently not. I am, of course, exotic silk, where you, sir, are snake skin.

Amy: I don't like it. Something stinks.
Hitchcock: Well, I'm sorry, but I refuse to mask my natural musk with a bunch of chemicals.