Nick: I might have met future me.
Schmidt: Who knows about this?
Nick: Nobody. You're the first person I've told, obviously.
Schmidt: Whoa.
Nick: If I find out how you die, do you want me to tell you?
Schmidt: Don't worry. I already know. It's one of these moles. See this little S.O.B. right there?
Nick: That's the guy?
Schmidt: I've been eyeing him for a while. That's one's gonna turn green one day, and then [snaps fingers] there you go. Schmidt's dead.