Schmidt: If we get her to take him back...
Nick: We'd be heroes.
Schmidt: That's right. [both laughing]
Nick: Look at that, Mom, I'm gonna be a hero.
Schmidt: Why are you looking up? Your mother is still alive.
Nick: I'm looking at Chicago.
Schmidt: You think Chicago is up?
Nick: It's north.

Winston: What you taking? Little boy blues? Yeah, I've been there. How many miggies you working with? Yeah, my pharmacist bumped me up to nine.
Robby: 1,400. Yeah. I have to take 18 pills an hour in a very specific order, and they virtually assured me that I will be addicted to them.

Winston: With the speed?! He like Mayweather with the knife!
Cece: Okay, what is going on? Because you don't even use a knife to eat a steak?
Nick: Well, my girl is coming. Of course my hands are dancing. These knives are a part of me like that, uh, scissor hand guy. What is his name again? Is it Rick Snip?

Winston: You can't break a man's heart on a holiday. I'm telling you, it happened to me once, and that pain... it comes back year after year after year. You don't want to do that to him, I'm telling you. That's why I'm always a hot mess on Take Your Daughter to Work Day.

Jess: Well, nothing makes me happier than cooking for ten hours and eating in under 25 minutes. Chant me in.
All [chanting]: Stuff that bird!
Robby: Stuff that bird! Stuff that bird! Guess who's too injured to fly?
Jess: Is it you?

Robby: Snoopy! Saw Snoopy.
Cece: [to Jess] Okay, no. You-you got to end this.
Robby: False alarm. It's just John Stamos on a Greek yogurt float.
Jess: Drop the hammer now? He can't even tell the difference between John Stamos and Snoopy.

Schmidt: Ooh, it's my daddy! It's my daddy!
Gavin: Gobble, gobble. Happy Thanksgiving, son.
Schmidt: I hope you're ready, 'cause I have a full day planned for us. First up is a game of American football featuring the Cowboys of Dallas.

Cece: Ugh. I'm so sorry, babe.
Schmidt: Yeah. No. I'm-I'm fine. Look, we don't wear sweaters and roll around in the leaves, but there are other ways for us to bond. If he wants to drink, then, you know what? I'm gonna drink. I'm gonna get sloppy with my poppy. Nick. Papa! Wait for me. Cece, get my bitters kit. Ooh, actually, can you just make sure that there's a garbage can next to the bed? Because... I can't hang.

Schmidt: This is the dream. A boy, his dad, his best friend sharing a drink. Don't tell Mom, right? [laughing] I'm just kidding. I know you and Mom haven't spoken in 30 years, including my wedding.

Jess: You guys can't leave. We need you here.
Schmidt: Well, I need a happy daddy.
Nick: He needs a happy daddy.
Cece: If they never come back, the last words I'll have heard my husband say are "happy daddy."