Reagan: [sits up] You're such a lightweight. I feel fine.
Jess: Hell of a ladies' night, though.
Reagan: A lot of secrets came out last night, didn't they?
Jess: [sits up] Secrets?

Jess: Cece! [exhales] I think I really screwed up ladies' night. I know I reek. [Cece coughs] Please, please, don't gag because then I will gag.
Cece: Okay, okay, it's really hard though, man.
Jess: I think something terrible happened. Reagan said, "A lot of secrets came out last night."
Cece: Uh-oh, you think she knows about Nick?
Jess: I mean, I only have one secret, so... it's got to be the Nick thing.
Cece: It's the Nick thing.
Jess: This is bad. Really bad.
Cece: Yeah, it's not good.
Jess: Ah, how could I let this happen?
Cece: [retching]
Jess: [gagging]
Cece: I'm sorry, I was holding my breath the whole time. [retching]
Jess: [gagging]
Cece: [blowing]
Jess: [coughing]
Cece: [retching]
Jess: [gagging]

Jess: Oh, my God. [groans]
Cece: You need to calm down. All right, just take a breath. Think of Michelle Obama.
Jess: [sighing] She's so strong.
Cece: See, it's working already.

[flashback:]
Jess: I hate the way that tastes.
Reagan: Idea.
Jess: What?
Reagan: Let's go to the pool.
Jess: Is "pool" cocaine? I mean, is "the pool," like, a drug thing? 'Cause I don't "swim." Like, I-I don't judge people who do "swim," but I don't.
Reagan: No, it's a real pool. An actual pool at my apartment, my other apartment. [gasps] [whispers] I have another apartment.
Jess: No, no...
Reagan: It's a secret. Don't tell Nick, don't tell Nick.
Jess: No.
Reagan: Shh.
Jess: Oh, no.
Reagan: Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh...
Jess: Okay, well, it's time to do future Jess a solid and black the hell out.

Nick: I can't believe my girlfriend has a secret apartment!
Jess: I'm sure there's some explanation.
Nick: I can think of one of two things. One, she's worried she's making a mistake by living with me. Or two, and this one is way more realistic, she has a secret family.
Jess: Only men have secret families.
Jess: Look, just go talk to Reagan.
Nick: I can't just run into the bathroom shouting, "You have a secret apartment," Jess. She'll bolt... to her secret apartment!

Jess: Hey... Ray Ray. Boo Boo?
Reagan: Is this about the apartment?
Jess: Damn.
Reagan: Jess, I know I put you in a weird spot by telling you about it.
Jess: Whatever the explanation, it's okay. I don't need to know anything except, like, when did you get it, is it, like, a real, genuine place, or is it, like, a playing it cool thing, like Nick's fake bar shift?
Reagan: What?
Jess: What?
Reagan: You said "fake bar shift," so does that mean that he didn't have to go to work, and that he lied to me?
Jess: Oh my God, you know who should talk to about this, because he could answer all your questions, is Nick.

Nick: I had no idea you were having a conversation [chuckling] with Reagan right now.
Reagan: We are in the middle of a conversation that we need to finish, so maybe we'll do that over drinks.
Jess: Did you have other plans? Maybe you wanted to have a conversation with somebody.
Nick: Well, I'd love to finish our conversation, Jess, so maybe you and I should get a drink.
Jess: You know what? After last night, the only drink I can handle is... room temperature milk.
Nick: You guys got crazy?
Reagan: Don't worry about it.

Nick: I would love to finish our conversation. We started ours first, so we should finish ours earlier. It's basic time science.
Reagan: It's time science?
Nick: Yeah, it's time science.
Reagan: You told me that you don't believe in watches or clocks, so I don't really think this is a very valid argument.
Nick: No, I said I believe in watches, I just don't trust who sets them. Who sets the time?
Reagan: You set the time.
Nick: Why would I set the time? It's my watch.

Jess: Okay, see? Talking is fun. Why don't you guys continue this conversation... at the bar... by yourselves, without me?
[cut to Jess with Nick and Reagan at a cafe:]
Jess: I'll have a milk.

Winston: So in front of you, you have two songs, one by a recognized EDM "artist," quotes intended, the other is by me.
Cece: I also helped.
Winston: [mocking] Yeah, okay.
Cece: I did!
Schmidt: Lay it on me.
Winston: Here we go. [Nick grunting rhythmically]
Schmidt: Stop.
Winston: What?
Cece: What?
Winston: You're barely seconds in.
Schmidt: Throbbing bass, the lone whistle, the gritty caw of gears grinding. This is clearly the work of Tim Bergling, better known as... Swedish EDM demigod... Avicii.
Winston: Avicii...
Schmidt: As you were.