Nick: Can we please stop competing with these fad bars? I hate fads, man.
Schmidt: Nick, just a small little piece of important, friendly advice: you need to give your Ds more emphasis. Fads.
Nick: What I said.
Schmidt: You're gonna get yourself in trouble.
Nick: By hating fads?
Schmidt: That's... maybe just change it to "trendy" bars. Or "hip" bars.
Nick: We need to stop competing with trendy, hip fad bars?

Schmidt: Give us a chance to, first, apologize and, second, give you a little bit of context here. You see, [chuckles] we thought that you attacked our bar.
Connie: Why would I attack a bar that has no one in it? And if I did want to attack you, I would just report you for one of your numerous health code violations.
Schmidt: Some improvements definitely need to be made. We... we found a dead fox in the keg room the other week.
Nick: We're not sure it was a fox. Uh, it was an animal that had died in our keg room that was bigger than a cat but smaller than a big dog...

Nick: Unbelievable. I had to park two blocks away, like an animal. The new bar, Presh, is doing valet and they took all of our spots.
Schmidt: I've been saying for months that we need valet. Is there anything sexier than tossing your keys in the general direction of someone you care nothing about? "Keep it running."

Jess: [gasps] A restraining order?! From Sam.
Schmidt: Oof...
Jess: I'm not a restraining order person.
Schmidt: A restraining order. That's worse than herpes ["her-pays"].

Winston: Uh, sorry about that, Riggs. Uh, Jessica, you better be here because you wrote a song you wanted me to listen to.
Jess: I just don't get why Sam would do this. I'm not dangerous.
Winston: Hey. Friend face. That was cute. Cop face. Girl, sit yo' ass down. And use the word "allegedly" when discussing Sam. I do not need Internal Affairs crawling all up in my holes.

Nick: All right. I need a drink. Oh, you gotta be kidding me. Somebody cut our soda.
Schmidt: Oh, my God, who would do such a thing?
Nick: It's Connie, Schmidt.
Schmidt: Well, how would she have gotten in here? I mean, she couldn't...
Nick: She took our bubbles, Schmidt! We have to retaliate.
Schmidt: What do we look like, Tonya Harding's henchmen? Who am I, Jeff Gillooly?

Sam: You're dangerous. I mean, you're dangerous to me. You want to know why I got the restraining order? [inhales deeply] 'Cause I couldn't stop thinking about you either. I didn't trust myself not to call you and start this whole thing up again. You know, you-you've changed, Jess, and that's great, I just... I haven't. And I'm still mad at you and... that's gonna take some time. I think the, uh, best, smartest thing for us to do is to just... [inhales] say good-bye.
Jess: [sighs heavily] What does Selena Gomez always say? "Take your things and go..."
Sam: The lyric is, "Take away your things and go."
Jess: "Take your things away and go..."
Sam: "Take away your things and go..."
Jess: "Take away your things and go."

Jess: Ugh! Son of a bitch. Nothing. I'm trying to get in touch with Sam... you know, to clear the air... Why isn't he responding?
Cece: I'm just gonna go out on a crazy limb here... maybe it's because you got his girlfriend to dump him?
Jess: I'm not being weird about it. I just texted him three times. [Schmidt sighs, groans] And I called him. He wasn't there. I left him a sensible voice mail. To lighten the mood, I told a little story about how the first-graders' pet rabbit got stuck in the lawn mower and I had to... I had to collect it.
Schmidt: That's a terrible story.
Winston: Colonel FlapEars?
Cece: Wow.

Schmidt: Wow. Tasteful, hip... I mean, nothing matches, yet nothing is random. That's just a framed toupee on the wall and it friggin' works.
Cece: What are these bartenders wearing? They look like Civil War surgeons.

Connie: Hey, hey. I'm Connie, the owner. You're the nutmeg wholesaler?
Nick: Me? No, I'm not the nutmeg wholesaler.
Connie: You have a nutmeg wholesaler vibe.
Cece: That's what it is. I've been trying to figure it out for years. You totally look like a nutmeg wholesaler.
Nick: Me no nutmeg...