Winston: You know what? Let me go, let me go, let me go. Um, check this out. Cece's boyfriend is so young that... [laughing] It'll come back to me.

Winston: Okay, I got it, I got it. Okay, Cece's boyfriend is so young that... How-how young is he?
Schmidt: Winston. It's not working, man. I'm serious. I'm at my wit's end with you.
Winston: What?

Cece: It's Jess. All of her chaperones just bailed, and she needs help.
Schmidt: A lady needs help? Is that a job for a boy?
Nick: No.
Schmidt: Or a...
Guys: Man! Men! Men! Men! Men! Men! Men! Men! Men!
Cece: Well, the dummy patrol is ready.

Jess: How do you know how to do that?
Cece: Well, a tire iron is actually strong enough to break through a high-carbon steel steering wheel lock, so, you ow, I figured I'd work with this.
Nick: [to Schmidt] Cece scares me sometimes.
Schmidt: It's just the tip of the iceberg, my friend.

Schmidt: He's right. I remember sticks and stones may break your bones, but not if you're a fat kid with calcium deficiency.

Coach: Let's hit it.
Nick: Hey, hey. Saving the best for last?
Coach: Oh, I'm sorry, Nick, uh, you're not chaperone material. I've been at this job for a few weeks now and I know the stink of a bad kid.
Nick: That makes me the perfect candidate to be a chaperone, Coach. Just think about it. I can get in the mind of a bad kid. Think like 'em, go deep. I can go too deep.
Coach: All right, I'm gonna put you in the parking lot to sweep for stragglers.
Nick: You want me on the streets.
Coach: It's not that important of a job.
Nick: I won't let you down. I'm not gonna let you down! [runs a few yards]
Coach: You taking a a break right now?

Winston: When the heat moves you, you got to move... Okay, no heat. No heat. No heat, Bishop, no heat. Keep that heat locked up. Keep that heat. [sings] Think you're going, baby I, this is Crazy.
Coach: Put that heat away, Bishop.
Winston: Huh? Yeah. Yeah, yeah. You got that, man. You got... [to a group of girls] What are you looking at?
Girl: Cool mustache.
Winston: [nervous chuckle] Too much heat. Too much heat.

Schmidt: All right, kids, let's use the serving tongs. This isn't Appalachia.
Tommy: Hurry up, everybody, before Justin eats everything.
Schmidt: Son, I don't think you meant to hurt Justin's feelings, there. What's going on, really? Are the parents fighting at home?
Tommy: Leave me alone, flamer.
Schmidt: Flamer? You're the You're the flamer, pal.
Tommy: You're the flamer.
Schmidt: You're the flamer.
Tommy: Flamer.
Schmidt: Stop saying that word, it's probably offensive to some people, you flamer.
Tommy: Flamer, flamer.
Schmidt: Yeah, take a doughnut, there, you flamer.
Tommy: Flamer.

Jess: What now? Aw, son of a b... penis. Ah, that wasn't better.

Biology Teacher: Banana in the dark. Uh-oh.
Jess: You ruined my dance. I can smell the paste. Perpetrator!