Gina: Tonight we will be attending my nephew Anthony's 13th birthday party.
Rosa: Sounds awful. Teenage boys are the worst.
Gina: But shooting them with paintballs in the behind is the best, which is what we're gonna do. It's a paintball party.
Rosa: Nice.
Gina: Let's go shoot my nephew.

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.

Gina: Now before I tell you my idea, are you allergic to dolphins?

Jake: That was 18 days ago. He's getting saner by the minute. In a month, he'll basically just be Frasier.
Sergeant Jeffords: Don't use Frasier's name in vain.
Jake: Copy that.

Jake: Okay, look, this was maybe a weird way to start the night, but the good news is, we can still make our dinner reservation and no one got hurt.
Hitchcock: Actually, I cut myself real bad.
Jake: Of course you did.