Sergeant Jeffords: Well, good luck. I'm rooting for you, Gina.
Captain Holt: You would take the losers side, Jeffords, you bitch. Trash talk.
Sergeant Jeffords: Okay. I don't like this, I'm gonna go.

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: Captain, how are you feeling?
Captain Holt: Better today. I even managed to eat some plain toast this morning.
Amy: Smart. Something bland.
Captain Holt: That's my favorite breakfast.

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.

Gina: Hey, Craptain, you ready to get curb stomped?
Sergeant Jeffords: What?
Gina: At chess.
Captain Holt: We have a weekly match. I'm teaching Gina to play. And she, in turn, is teaching me to trash talk. The hospital called. Your test results came back positive. You're a stage five dumbass.
Gina: Oh! You have come so far.

Gina: But I do know the names. I've simply rebranded them. My queen is Rihanna.
My king is Beyonce. And this little guy is Kevin. Would you be willing to murder Kevin, the love of your life?
Captain Holt: Yes. Chess Kevin means nothing to me.

Sergeant Jeffords: This is crazy. I can't imagine the Nine-Nine without you.
Gina: Don't worry. I have a parting gift for all of you. I printed "Time for Gina's Opinion" hoodies for you with your names on them. Oh, there you go.
Jake: Oh, that's fun. So like "Time for Jake's Opinion"?
Gina: What are you, insane? No. It says "Time for Gina's Opinion" in large text on the back and then your names are stitched really tiny on the front.
Jake: Ah.
Gina: I had to guess at some of the spellings.
Amy: Arnie?