Winston: So... Which one of us takes the blackmailing gambling addict?
Aly: I'll take him. Can't be worse than the job I had before this... Photographing those idiot babies.
[flashback:]
Aly: Uncross your eyes, you idiot baby. [baby cries]
[present:]
Winston: Is that why you have all those pictures of crying babies dressed as vegetables in your living room?
Aly: Yeah, yeah, yeah.
Winston: Yeah, that was weird.

Schmidt: Jess, what if I told you that there was a place... Where you could work in peace.
[cut to:]
Jess: Um... Schmidt, this is the men's room at your office.
Schmidt: Oh, no, this is my wedding workshop. See, I'm the only guy in the building. Well, except, of course, for Brian but, you know, I pay Brian eight dollars a day to do his poops at the big box store across the street.
Jess: That seems high. When do you do the work that you get paid for?
Schmidt: Rarely, and it's a problem, but, you know, we couldn't afford a planner, so, here we are. Please... Have a seat at the think sink.
Jess: Oh. Hmm. Don't mind if I do. [laughs] I like its energy. I will create a dress today.
Schmidt: If you need anything, just let me know. Also... There's a fridge stocked with sparkling water in stall three.

Jess: I'm freaking out. I've been working on this for months. It's just... It has to be perfect. This dress is gonna be in every single picture, and people will say, "Cece, why do you look so bad?" Also, "Who is that murdered woman in the background?" And the answer to both would be: Jess.
Schmidt: This is true. I see this happening exactly how you described it.

Aly: You know this is blackmail... and you're a police officer.
Daniels: Oh... I am a disaster. So here's the thing. Should I... Do we have a deal or do I go to the sergeant? How do we want to...?
Aly: You don't own us. You know what... Everybody, Bishop and I are...
Winston: Hey, hey, hey, hey. Are you sure about this?
Aly: Yes. Yeah, I've never been more sure of anything. Hey, everyone, Bishop and I are dating. All right? That's right. We are rubbing butts and we don't care who knows it.

Jess: J'accuse, Parikh! Cette soupe est trop chaude.
Cece: You just said, "I accuse you," and, "the soup is too hot"?
Jess: Indeed, it is. I told you you could see your wedding dress when I'm finished with it.

Nick: We have a situation. I want to ask Reagan to the wedding, so I-I sent her a text to say, "Hey, how's your spring looking?" That was an hour ago. No response.
Aly: Mm. [eating] Dead. Maybe she's dead.
Winston: Yeah.

Nick: Maybe-maybe she doesn't miss me, or maybe she forgot me. How could she forget me after I gave her my body?
Winston: I thought you guys didn't have sex.
Nick: Uh, outercourse. It counts.

Jess: Ah! Why did I say that? There was no reason for me to say that. I can't work like this. You have to get her out of here. I can't take my idea walks.
Schmidt: Your idea walks? How did you become such an important part of my life?
Jess: When I craft, I like to get out of my space, bop around. I use movement and scenery to tickle the old idea box, but I can't do that now, 'cause every ten minutes Cece comes in here, like, "Hey, Jessica, that dress is gonna be gangbusters, polka dots."
Schmidt: That's a really good Cece. Also a passable Sinatra.

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.

Nick: Uh, did Regan text you back yet?
Cece: In the past three minutes, no.
Nick: Son of a bi... o-okay, you know what? Plan B. I'm texting her from my burner.
Cece: Hmm?
Winston: Why do you have a burner phone?
Nick: [chuckles] That's an insane question, dude. [laughs]
Winston: That's not an answer.
Cece: A burner is crazy.