Jake: Hey, you never came home last night. You doing okay?
Scully: No, I'm a mess. I miss Hitchcock.
Jake: What? I was obviously talking to Amy.
Scully: Oh, and who's talking to Scully? No one. Come on, sandwich.

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.

Jake: Amy's just upset because the historically entrenched patriarchy has created a culture of victim-shaming that suppresses any power shift in our masculo-phallic system.
Amy: Huh?
Jake: I couldn't sleep last night so I watched a documentary on Netflix about feminism.
Amy: I love you.

Regina Park: Sorry if my voice is raspy. They just took the breathing tube out.
Captain Holt: But they left the BS in?
Sergeant Jeffords: Good God.
Charles: Whoa.

Sergeant Jeffords: Captain, sorry to interrupt. I just got off the phone with the Department of Corrections. They wanted me to let you know that Ernest Zumowski died.
Captain Holt: My goodness. It's been a while since I've heard that name. I hunted him for years and finally caught him and put an end to his bloodlust. In some sick way, I am who I am because of Ernest Zumowski AKA-
All: The Disco Strangler.
Captain Holt: Oh, so you knew who I was talking about?
Charles: Yeah, sir, you talk about him a lot.
Captain Holt: You know, the yo-yo was his-
All: Calling card.
Captain Holt: Oh, I mentioned that too? So how'd he die?
Sergeant Jeffords: He was in a prison transport van, and he got in a terrible accident. It burst into flames, and he was trapped inside.
Captain Holt: [laughing] Well, well, well, he finally did it.
Charles: Died horribly?
Captain Holt: Escaped. Just like he said he would all those years ago.
[past:]
Disco Strangler: I'll be coming back for you. I'm just like disco, baby. I will never die.
Captain Holt: True, disco will never die, but you will-
[present:]
All: In your cell, punk.
Captain Holt: Oh, so I've told that part of the story as well?
Sergeant Jeffords: Yes, at every Christmas party.
Charles: Sir, I am the first to tout the capabilities of senior citizens. I have made love to many, but the Disco Strangler is over 80. I doubt that he could pull off an escape like this.
Captain Holt: Oh, that's what he wants you to think. You're both underestimating him. I know 28 other people who did that, and they all ended up with yo-yos around their throats.
Charles and Sergeant Jeffords: Necks.
Captain Holt: Nope, I said "throats," not necks, which means I haven't told that story too many times. All right, lace up your dancing shoes because it's time to catch this disco bastard.