Coach: Anything for me?
Winston: Oh, no, this isn't our mail. This is our neighbors' mail. You see, Viv likes it alphabetized. Yet Michelle likes it according to size. (chuckles) Hashtag "go figure," right? Hashtag "did you see how I rhymed?"
Coach: I want to choke you until your eyes literally pop out of your head. Those girls are not going to sleep with you. They are hot. And nothing is less hot than a male secretary.
Winston: [imitates record scratching] What? I think somebody needs to take a good long look at Defense Secretary Chuck Hagel. Dude's eyes are so pouchy, he can barely see anything, and he's still killing it.
Coach: Girls don't have sex with guys who sort their mail.
Winston: Look, I am playing the long game here, Coach, weaving myself into the fabric of their lives. Pretty soon I'll be as permanent as the will that I helped them draw up.