Schmidt: You wanted to see me, Kim?
Kim: Schmidt. Why did you copy me on all these e-mails you sent planning your wedding?
Schmidt: What? Oh. [clears throat] Darn it. Sorry about that. Um, Kim is actually also the name of our chef's new assistant.
Kim: To your florist: "Beaming over the peony centerpieces. No chance I'll get work done today." To your dj: "fat wet beats..."
Schmidt: FWB.
Kim: "What about a swing theme for cocktail hour? I'll spend the day brainstorming tracks. Out."
Schmidt: I'm no longer with fat wet beats. We had a few conversations and he was being a straight-up ho.
Kim: Is this what you've been doing instead of the regional brand report? It was due three days ago.
Schmidt: That. Yes. Of course, I'm gonna have that to you in... Why are you Sm... why you smiling... at me like that?
Kim: I'm imagining what it would be like to fire you. The same feeling I had when we unplugged my mother-in-law. Beep... Beep... Beep... [smiles]
Schmidt: Is that legal... In California?
Kim: You've been warned. If I catch you doing anything at all related to your wedding, you are out.