Sergeant Jeffords: Sir, you haven't come out of your office in a while. How are you doing?
Captain Holt: Terrible. You were right. I was trying to relive my glory years, but the fact remains, they are behind me. My only nemesis now Father Time.

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: 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.

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.

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.