Outside Dave: [o.s.] Hair sauce!
Schmidt: Hair sauce? Oh, my God.
Outside Dave: Mmm, feels like mud.
Schmidt: If he even looks at my pomade caddy, I will turn every hobo in the city against him. I will poison every pie on every windowsill.
Winston: He doesn't steal pies from windowsills. He is a real-life homeless person. We need to call the cops.