Reagan: Can I throw out this, uh, soggy bag of cucumbers?
Winston: No! Those are pickles in progress. [groans]
Jess: Um, I don't mean to be mean, but you guys are being real babies about this whole thing.
Nick: [laughs] They don't...
Schmidt: Until you've had your sack waxed, you can't know this pain.
Jess: Excuse me?
Cece: Childbirth?
Reagan: Weekly wax, top to tail.
Nick: We went through hell, and we came out the other side, gentlemen. It was war. Granted, one that took
place in a high end-spa, but still our war.